


Eventually I'll Get the Guy

by mailroomorder



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College, First Time, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-15 12:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/849656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mailroomorder/pseuds/mailroomorder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Blaine goes to college and moves into the dorms, there are a few things that are more difficult than expected; it's hard to jerk off when you're living in a dorm surrounded by people, and it's even more frustrating when the person you're fantasizing about is your roommate. When he finds himself actually falling for this guy, though, things become a bit more complicated. Because there's no way Kurt will like him back. So Blaine just continues living his life. Eventually he'll find the privacy to masturbate. And eventually he'll get the guy. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is wholly unbetaed, only glanced over a few quick times by me, myself, and I. If you find any mistakes, feel free to (nicely) bring that up to me so I can fix it. This fic is based off a [GKM prompt](http://glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/43590.html?thread=58179142#t58179142)
> 
>  
> 
> Rated NC-17 for masturbation and eventual sex.
> 
> I'd like to give a humungous thanks to Alianne for 1) anonymously posting this prompt 2) listening to me talk about whether or not I wanted to write this anonymously posted prompt, and 3) figuring out that the entire time it was her prompt and coming out of the closet (so to speak) and telling me she prompted it. Then she was an awesome support figure.
> 
>  
> 
> Lastly, all mistakes are my own and I own nothing...not even a refrigerator. As always, be kind, please rewind!
> 
> Rebloggable on Tumblr

Blaine’s first thought is, _Damn, he is cool_.

They had talked for a bit on Facebook before meeting. Nothing too deep—just informal conversation about hobbies and music tastes. They have some similar interests, and Blaine is certainly thankful for it. He is definitely nervous about going off to college alone in a new state, but the excitement tends to overrun the nerves. And learning that he is paired off with a roommate who he at least has some superficial similarities with is a great relief. He also can’t neglect to mention how utterly relieved he is upon reading on his roommate’s Facebook page that he is gay. He silently thanks the Powers that Be for that one, knowing that he dodged a perhaps awkward bullet.

But when his roommate walks into the dorm room a few days after Blaine has moved in, all Blaine can think about is how cool he seems. He is good looking and relaxed, moving his stuff in with his father and stepbrother. He smiles at Blaine and shakes his hand, radiating excitement about finally being a “proper” adult and living on his own.

Blaine makes himself scarce during the day, only coming back in the evening after eating dinner with some guys he met the other day who live on his hall. He doesn’t want to disturb Kurt while he is moving in—doesn’t want to be in the way or make things awkward. So he goes out and explores the campus some more, heading into the surrounding city and wandering aimlessly until dinner time. He and his new friends walk back to the dorms together and disperse when they each reach their respective doors.

His roommate, Kurt, is almost completely finished with his side of room, just making a few minor adjustments like adding posters and pictures to the walls. There is no one else there—not that Blaine exactly expects that. After all, it’s nearly nine at night.

“Hey,” Blaine says, setting his wallet on his dresser next to his bed.

“Hi,” Kurt replies, arms outstretched above him as he places a framed painting on the wall. He turns his head towards Blaine, looking right into his eyes as he talks.

Blaine is momentarily startled into silence while he sits dumbly on his bed. But then Kurt turns back to face the wall and finish hanging his painting, allowing Blaine the time to take a deep breath and compose himself.

“Did you eat?” he asks, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Yeah. I went out with my family.”

“Did they leave?” Blaine inquires, eyebrows lifted in earnest curiosity. His own parents left after moving him in, not wanting to spend the night at a hotel. Blaine knows Kurt grew up a few hours away, just like he did, so he’s not sure if his family would have spent the night.

“Yeah. My stepbrother moves into school tomorrow. It was easier to head home.” Kurt wipes his hands on his jeans before turning to his bed. There’s an opened plastic box sitting on his bed. It’s small and looks like it could fit perfectly under the bed. Kurt begins folding sweaters and putting them in. When he’s done he closes the box and slides it under his bed.

Blaine is perched on his bed, legs crossed pretzel style and hands clasped together, as he watches Kurt move throughout the room. Kurt moves effortlessly. He never second guesses his step, already feeling comfortable and confident in his new home. Already knowing where everything is. Blaine hardly realizes that he’s staring until Kurt levels him with a curious yet fond gaze and says, “You okay there?”

Blaine shakes his head, hoping for some clarity to return, and offers an apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” he says. “Long day.” He hopes it’s a good enough excuse. But he supposes it is when he sees Kurt smile in agreement and turn back around.

“I’m just gonna go shower,” he says as he walks into their closet. He comes back out with a towel and his shower caddy. “Is it uhm…customary for guys to walk down the halls in towels? Or should I have purchased a robe?” Kurt’s cheeks blush a faint red, and Blaine takes a second to process what is being asked.

“Oh. Oh! No. No.” He smiles. “So far I’ve realized that we all tend to take the uncivilized route and just walk through the halls in our towels.”

“Right.” Kurt nods, fidgeting a bit before dropping the towel and caddy on his bed. He turns away from Blaine and starts undoing his button up shirt. By the time he’s removed all of his clothes except his boxers, Blaine is noticeably hard and trying his best to avoid looking at Kurt. He angles his body away from Kurt’s on the off chance that Kurt will turn around and see his erection. He grabs a book from the table beside him and opens it up to where his bookmark is, trying his hardest to pick up where he left off.

He fails.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Kurt wrap the towel around his waist and then slowly remove his underwear, bending down to pick it up from the floor and throw it in his hamper in the closet. He grabs his shower caddy, slips on a pair of flip flops, and utters a quiet goodbye as he leaves the room.

Blaine bangs his head against his wall and lets out an undignified _hmph!_  at the pain that blooms. He rubs his forehead and wills his erection to go away. He wants so badly to take himself in hand, to rub out his frustrations and fantasies. But he has no idea how long it takes Kurt to shower, and the last thing he wants is to be walked in on by the guy he just met, the guy he has to live with for another eight months, while he’s pleasuring himself. So he wills it to go away. It’s hard, but he manages.

When he’s finally feeling like he has everything back under control Kurt walks in. He’s wet and shiny, his shoes making squeaking noises as he walks to the closet to toe them off. Blaine can’t stop looking at how well defined his stomach is. There aren’t any abs, but there are muscles. They’re taut and spanning his entire stomach. There’s a small trail of hair from his belly button to where his towel is wrapped around his waist. Blaine doesn’t want to stare, but he can’t help but notice it.

 _Fuck_ , he thinks as his erection begins to grow again.

He watches as Kurt grabs some clothes and is able to put on a shirt without any problems. But when he turns around, gorgeous back now facing Blaine, and bends over to wrestle on his underwear, Blaine nearly loses it. He watches Kurt’s hips swivel as he pulls up his underwear. He watches as he lets the towel drop. He has to grab the front of his jeans and squeeze his dick, afraid that at any moment he will come or start rutting into the fabric of his pants.

When Kurt bends over again to pick up his towel, Blaine nearly moans. His ass is round and full, pushing against the tight, light blue fabric of his briefs. Blaine can see where his ass cheeks separate, can see the top of his crack peek out from the band of his briefs. It takes all of his will power to not run over there and hump against Kurt’s ass until he comes.

 _I have to stop myself,_ he thinks. He doesn’t know what to do next, but he knows that he can’t stay here.

“I have to go!” he nearly screams as he jumps up from his bed. He’s at the door by the time Kurt turns around, face drawn up in confusion. He knows Kurt’s about to say something, but he has no intention of waiting around to find out what it is. He rushes off to the bathroom and enters the last stall—the handicap stall.

He sits on the toilet and tries to keep his breathing under control. It’s not working, so he just continues to breathe heavily.

“Fuck!” He screams. He lets his head fall into his hands before groaning. He _knew_ he was going to have a gay roommate. And he knew that this roommate was good looking. He did not, however, expect to have an unwanted physical reaction to him.

In the back of his mind he asks himself if there is even such a thing as an _unwanted physical reaction_.

He stays in the stall for a few more seconds but his erection never goes away. There is no one in the bathroom—there hasn’t been since he’s been there. He is in no mood to wait ten minutes to cool off, so he does the only thing he can think of: he pulls his pants down.

He pulls his jeans down, then his underwear, before sitting back on the toilet. He starts roughly jerking himself off, wishing he had lotion or even water to help the glide. He’s trying to keep his moans at bay, afraid that anyone walking by the bathroom will be able to overhear him.

He swallows his moans and bites his bottom lip, the hard friction unpleasant but still so, _so_ hot. He squeezes hard, wanting to come as quickly as possible. He doesn’t want to revel in the moment.

With his other hand he fondles his balls, rolling them around and massaging them.

He’s so close to coming, so close to relief, when he hears someone walk in. He immediately lets go of his dick, eyes widening and jaw dropping. He has to work hard to keep his panting quiet. His dick bounces against his belly, making a soft sound, and Blaine immediately grabs hold of it, stopping it from moving.

The guy goes into the stall one down from him. Blaine hears the unzipping of the jeans and the rustling of pants being pulled down. He hears the guy plop down on the toilet seat, and he hears the sigh of relief as the man begins to pee.

Blaine still refuses to move. He’s hoping this will be over soon. But when he notices that the man isn’t just peeing, when he realizes why the man is in a stall instead of a urinal, Blaine immediately begins to soften. It takes a few minutes, but he is still out of the bathroom before the man finishes up. He makes his way all the way back to his door before he realizes that he never brought his key with him.

“Ugh,” he groans. Tonight is just not his night. He’s agitated at himself for getting hard—for not being able to control his physical reaction. He’s wound up from being hard and filled with adrenaline yet not being able to ever orgasm. He’s annoyed with himself for forgetting his key.

He knocks lightly on the door—apologetically.

“Kurt? It’s me. I left my key.”

Kurt answers the door in fitted sweat pants—no shirt. Blaine audibly gulps and walks passed him.

“Thanks,” he murmurs.

“No problem,” Kurt says cheerfully before going back to his bed where he’s reading a magazine.

It’s early and Blaine’s not tired, but he sure is worn out. He grabs his newly purchased laptop and logs onto Netflix, hoping that a good movie will calm him down.

 


	2. Chapter Two

                The first month of college flies by. Blaine _loves_ school. He loves the classes that he got to choose himself, he loves the new and accepting friends that he has made, he loves the parties that he gets to go to, and he loves all of the freedom that he gets to have.

                He goes to frat parties with a bunch of his friends every weekend. He usually grinds with girls while there because there aren’t any gay guys, but occasionally he’ll find a boy to dance with or talk to. He doesn’t do more than _maybe_ make out with them, but it’s fun and freeing and exciting that he can _finally_ act on being gay. He never realized how much he needed to just let loose and be himself—physically embody his sexuality.

                Kurt does, too. He knows this, because sometimes they talk about it late at night. Kurt hasn’t slept with anyone at school yet, but he’s made a few friends that he parties with. Kurt skips the frats because his one friend is a sophomore and has an apartment off campus.

                “How was last night?” Blaine asks late Saturday afternoon. He just returned from hanging out downtown with some friends. He has a few hours before he has to get ready for tonight, and he wants to spend them hanging out and relaxing. It’s a pleasant surprise that Kurt is still in the dorm room, and he plans on taking advantage of it.

                “Great!” Kurt responds cheerfully, a smile lighting up his face. Kurt is sitting at his desk drawing. Blaine learned a few weeks ago that Kurt was taking a Studio Arts class because he wanted to try and improve his natural talent.

                “Going out tonight?” Blaine lays on his bed, hands clasped behind his head, and stretches his torso a bit, emitting a small groan when he feels his back pop.

                “I think so,” Kurt replies, shading something in. “I don’t know. It depends.”

                “On what?”

                Kurt continues drawing. “There was this guy there last night. He was nice but… _far_ too interested. And a terrible kisser. I kind of want to avoid him.”

                Blaine isn’t quite sure what qualifies a good kisser from a bad kisser. He’s only ever kissed a small handful of guys and they all seemed pretty decent.

                “That sucks,” he says, not sure how to respond.

                He’s trying hard not to imagine Kurt grinding up on some guy, head pillowed against his shoulder, hips moving back and forth. He tries not to envision what Kurt would look like while making out with another man. Tries to stop the images that come into his head of Kurt sweaty and loose, moaning as somebody sucks on his neck.

                He shakes his head, trying to cool down and think of something else.

                Kurt just shrugs his shoulders. “Eh. It happens.” He starts erasing something and a few seconds later he asks, “Wanna grab dinner with me in a bit?”

                “Definitely,” Blaine responds. He and Kurt get along surprisingly well. They aren’t _friends_ , but they’re friends. They go out to eat sometimes—normally just the two of them, but sometimes with Blaine’s friends that live on their hall. Kurt doesn’t hang out with too many of the guys on their floor, but he does talk to a few that live a couple floors below them. Still, the few times their friendship leaves the confines of the dorm it tends to just remain between the two of them. And Blaine, well—Blaine is totally fine with that.

* * *

 

                “Blaine, oh my god,” Charlie laughs, arm wrapped around Blaine’s shoulder as he tries to walk Blaine back to the dorms. It’s two in the morning and they just left the frat. Blaine is drunk and happy and _talkative._ He just cannot stop talking.

                “And his _freckles_ ,” he moans, tripping over his own feet. Charlie is barely able to catch him before he falls. “Charlie. Charlie? Are you laughing? What’s so funny, Charlie?” Blaine asks, eyes wide as a doe’s and painted with curiosity.

                “Nothing,” Charlie chuckles. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

                “Kurt’s at home!” Blaine says, as if this is the biggest and best realization he has ever had.

                “Think you’ll be able to keep the lid on your crush? Or are you too drunk to censor yourself?”

                “I’m not _that_ drunk,” Blaine defends. Though it’s fairly evident by his near inability to walk without help that yes, he is. “But but but…he doesn’t know,” Blaine laments a few seconds later, shoulders sagging with defeat.

                “Well maybe you should tell him,” Charlie suggests.

                “Nah,” Blaine waves his hand in dismissal. “I’m not his type.”

                “Why’s that?”

                “Well, you see,” Blaine explains. “Kurt is too…good. For me. He’s too good for me. And he’s so pretty. And and and, Charlie. He. Has. Had. A. Boyfriend. Before.” He speaks slowly and enunciates his words.

                Charlie just shakes his head with a fond smile. Blaine has been over this several times with his group of friends. They all know that he likes Kurt, and they all think that he should say something. But Blaine, sober or not, always talks himself out of it, afraid that his inexperience will put Kurt off.

                They continue talking for the rest of the walk home; nothing important, just wanting to fill the empty air between them.

                When Charlie deposits Blaine on his bed, Kurt’s side of the room is suspiciously empty.

                “Do yourself a favor,” Charlie says before leaving, “fall asleep before Kurt returns.” With that he’s out the door. Blaine struggles for a few minutes with taking his clothes off, then passes out in his boxers on top of his comforter.

* * *

 

                The next morning over chips and pizza in Charlie and Ben’s dorm room, Blaine decides to bring up his biggest problem with college.

                “Can I ask you guys a question?” The three other guys in the room turn their heads away from the video games they’re playing and focus on Blaine.

                “Shoot,” Ben says.

                “How do you guys uhm..” Blaine blushes and ducks his head, but forces himself to continue. “God, this is embarrassing. But how do you guys…masturbate?” His voice cracks on the last word.

                “With my hand, Blaine,” Ben says. “And if I’m lucky, with someone else’s hand.”

                “Ha. Ha.” Blaine responds dryly. “I mean, how do you find the privacy? I’m always afraid that Kurt will walk in or if it’s late at night that he’ll wake up.” He grabs his slice of pizza off his paper plate and takes a bite, needing something to do.

                Ben and Charlie share an awkward look, neither really keen on learning the masturbatory habits of their roommate.

                “Well,” Kevin says, hoping to dissipate the awkwardness that just transpired. “I sometimes do it in the shower. But normally I do it when I know my roommate is out. Like, for class or to dinner.”

                Blaine just nods, taking it all in.

                “Yeah,” he says. “I can try that.”

                While Blaine sits and ponders this new found information, the rest of the gang just continues to stare at each other in confusion.

                _Twenty dollars he gets caught,_ Ben mouths to Kevin.

                _You’re on_ , Kevin responds.

* * *

 

                The following week Blaine masturbates.

                At least, he tries to masturbate. He has more unsuccessful attempts than successful ones, though.

                There is that time that Kurt forgets his books when he left for class, so he has to come back and get them. He walks in on Blaine palming himself above his shorts and shrieks, causing Blaine to open his eyes and  squeak out an embarrassed, “Oh my god,” before pulling his blanket over his lap and turning quickly onto his stomach. It is uncomfortable, but his erection dies down pretty fast.

                “I am so, _so_ sorry,” Kurt says, holding his hands over his eyes. “I just…I had to get my book!”

                Blaine just groans and Kurt grabs his book and leaves.

                The second time is in the shower, like Kevin suggested. But the problem with that is that the showers are hardly ever empty. The first time he tries is when he gets to the shower and there is no one in there. But fifteen minutes in two people enter and Blaine can’t in good conscience continue. The second time he tries is a few days later. When he enters the showers there is one other person there, but he leaves a few minutes later.

                _This is my chance,_ he thinks. He starts playing with his chest, letting his fingers ghost over his nipples, which are perky and hard and pleasant to touch. He slowly trails his one hand down, other hand still caressing his chest, and he falls against the shower wall. It’s disgusting to think about touching the wall of a public shower, but he tries his hardest to forget about it.

                Blaine loves to tease himself when he has the chance. He can get off fast if he has to, but his favorite thing is to take his time and enjoy his body. He loves his body. He’s worked hard on his body—on the muscles and the tone.

                So when the shitty dorm showers run cold a few minutes before he reaches his release, Blaine visibly shudders. He’s too far gone to sit and wait in the cold water to go soft, so he forces himself to squeeze harder and pull faster and eventually has a highly unsatisfying orgasm. It’s disgusting and he’s cold and he still hasn’t washed his hair, so he shuts the shower off and runs across with his shower caddy and towel to the stall across from him, hoping that it has hot water left.

                There are more embarrassing and unsuccessful attempts and it all leaves Blaine feeling strung out and anxious. Kurt only exacerbates the problem. Because every night Blaine has to come home to see Kurt changing into pajama shorts to sleep. And every morning he has to watch Kurt strip and step into a towel so he can shower. He has to watch Kurt come home on the weekends drunk and loose and still high on adrenaline, and on more than one occasion he’s had to dance with Kurt in the middle of their small dorm to music that Kurt blasts from his phone or his computer. It all leaves Blaine sexually frustrated.

                So after two months of not being able to jerk off like he normally does, Blaine is feeling a little unsatisfied. It’s Saturday night and Kurt is passed out in his bed. They had each gone out to a party and gotten drunk, and Kurt, who can barely hold his alcohol, tends to fall into deep sleep after drinking too much. Blaine had danced with another guy tonight. They kissed a bit—nothing heavy, because the entire time all he could think about was Kurt. What Kurt’s lips would feel like. What his hands would feel like framing his face and grasping his chin.

                He wakes up around four in the morning hard and wanting. He looks over to Kurt and sees him sleeping peacefully, body and face angled towards Blaine. He slowly, carefully, begins to rut against the mattress. He tries to keep his moans down but it’s hard, and he lets a few slip. He can’t stop staring at Kurt, who looks so peaceful and angelic. But when he realizes that it’s probably creepy to stare at your black-out drunk roommate while masturbating, he turns his head into his pillow to muffle his groans.

                He’s panting and moaning quietly. “Fuck. Ah,” he grunts. He’s sweating and he’s getting closer when he hears Kurt turn over. He stops for a second, assessing the situation. But Kurt’s breathing still sounds even and he doesn’t move again, so Blaine continues.

                “Come on, _come on_ ,” he moans, imagining that the tight, hard heat that he’s fucking into were Kurt’s hand, hard and solid around him. He imagines the blanket on top of him, pushing him down, as Kurt’s weight surrounding him. He pretends Kurt’s mouthing at his neck, leaving his mark.

                His cock rubs against his briefs and the mattress, and when he comes he can’t help but let out a strangled moan.

                “Ah, ah. Uhhhh,” he grunts, slowing the movement of his hips. He still rocks a bit as he turns his head to the side, facing Kurt’s back now. He’s hot and sweaty and has sticky come lining the insides of his briefs, but he’s still turned on. “Fuck, Kurt. I wish that were you,” he sighs.

                He takes a few minutes to lie in bed and calm down before getting up and grabbing a clean pair of briefs. He gets changed right in the middle of their dorm room, not afraid that Kurt will see him in the nude. If Kurt could sleep through Blaine jerking off, then he most likely won’t wake up right now.

                When he gets back into bed he thinks, _Note to self, find a better time to jerk off so I don’t have to do it in secret at sunrise._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have four more chapters completely written, so expect semi-regular updates. I'd love to read comments and hear peoples' thoughts! And don't forget, this story is still being written; so feel free to let me know if you have any ideas, requests, or kinks etc.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a day later than I was expecting. I got overrun yesterday. Time to brag: I saw Darren in concert this week! If anyone else saw him, I hope they enjoyed it as much as I did.
> 
> Also, this chapter is completely unbetaed. So help a girl out and (politely) point out any mistakes you come across. I'm no stranger to editors, and I always love a second glance!

                “Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

                They’re sitting in their dorm, each on their own respective beds, eating Chinese takeout from the carton and catching up on homework. They’ve been exchanging easy conversation—nothing too deep or serious, nothing that requires too much concentration. Just shooting the breeze while they get rid of some of the work that’s been stacking up.

                “I uhm,” Blaine mutters, face growing rosy. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have with Kurt. Kurt, who he _knows_ has had sex. He knows because he’s seen Kurt’s box of condoms, and one time a few weeks ago Kurt never came home at night and when he showed up in the morning he muttered something about needing to shower off the grossness of a guy named Rob. “I haven’t, no,” he sighs. He’s not _embarrassed_ about never having had a boyfriend. But he is a bit embarrassed about his complete lack of sexual and dating experience and knowledge. He’s well versed in the ways of self-pleasure, but he sometimes wishes that he could pop his cherry, so to speak.

                Kurt just nods, writing some words down on his worksheet. He’s bouncing his head to the music that’s coming out of one of his headphones—the other is hanging limply against his chest.

                “Have you?” Blaine manages to ask, keeping his eyes on his book in front of him.

                “Yeah. Just one, though. In high school.”

                Blaine nods his head as if in understanding. He wants to ask more. Wants to ask what it felt like. Wants to ask if he’s ever had anal sex, and if he has, how it felt. But instead he continues doing his homework, sitting in companionable silence.

                When a few minutes pass without conversation, Blaine assumes that they are done talking. At least about the topic at hand. But then Kurt interrupts.

                “It didn’t work out,” he blurts, then looks up at Blaine and smiles a shy smile. “Obviously,” he laments.

                Blaine nods dumbly, not quite sure how to continue.

                “It was fun while it lasted, though,” Kurt sighs.

                “Do you miss him?” Blaine asks hesitantly, refusing to tear his eyes away from Kurt’s, which are staring right at him.

                “No,” he says firmly.

* * *

 

                “So how’s it going with Kurt?” Charlie asks.

                They’re sitting in the park. It’s late afternoon and the sun is shining. It’s not too cold out yet, the perfect fall weather keeping the air around them mostly warm and the breeze nice and light.

                “It’s not,” Blaine replies.

                Charlie has quickly become his best friend at school. They run in the same social circle, yet are a part of completely and totally different majors, classes, and extra-curriculars. He’s never had a friend so _different_ from him. But he loves Charlie, and Charlie seems to love him, too. He’s definitely the only person in school Blaine feels comfortable telling his deepest thoughts and emotions to.

                “Why not?” Charlie asks, picking at the grass around them.

                Blaine considers this question. He and Kurt have recently made great strides in their friendship. They hang out more often; Kurt’s even come to a few gatherings with Blaine and his friends. In return, Kurt had invited Blaine out to a party at Kurt’s friend’s house the weekend before. It was fun and low-key; just a lot of people drinking wine from the bottle around a fire pit in a house off campus.

                “We’re becoming friends,” he decides on. “Good friends.”

                There’s a pause in the conversation before Charlie says, pushing his sunglasses back up his nose, “Friends is good. Friends you can work with.” He lets out a sly smile and Blaine has to shove his shoulder, laughing through his grin.

                “Friends first, boyfriends second,” he declares.

                They hang around the park for a few more minutes before Charlie has to leave for his next class.

* * *

 

                It’s harder making the move from friends to boyfriends, though. Blaine has no experience in divulging his feelings to his crushes. And the further into the semester they go, the better friends he and Kurt become. When Thanksgiving break comes around and they are forced to spend a week apart, they text nearly every day. From small nothings like, _how was your day_ , to inside jokes, _oh my god, it’s like Jenna Anchovie all over again,_ and fond messages of friendship, _at this store and I totally just found something that reminded me of you_ ; Blaine and Kurt have undeniably grown closer.

                Their reunion after break ends involves a tight hug that lasts a second longer than it should. Blaine tries to surreptitiously breathe in Kurt’s smell when his head is resting against Kurt’s shoulder, but Kurt catches him and just laughs.

                “Like what you smell, Anderson?” He smirks.

                “You know it,” Blaine flirts back, trying to be seductive but failing miserably when he tries to throw in a sexy wink. They dissolve into laughter and fall onto Kurt’s bed. They spend the rest of the night drinking vodka cranberry, half-watching whatever’s on TV, and talking about what happened while they were on break.

                The rest of the week goes similarly. Through an unspoken agreement they almost always go to dinner together. Whether that just be the two of them or the two of them with a group of friends, it doesn’t matter. Because they always sit next to each other or across from each other and share tiny moments just between them.

                Walking back from dinner one night with the group of guys on their floor, Kurt and Blaine shrink back from the group, walking a few steps behind everyone.

                “I can’t believe he’d do that!” Kurt shakes his head, grinning a bit in disbelief.

                “Hey!” Blaine defends. “It was an act of love.”

                “How embarrassing. I swear, if anyone ever barged into my class to sing me _Happy Birthday_ or give me a box of chocolates I’d die of embarrassment.”

                “Note to self: never serenade Kurt.” Blaine pretends to write this in the air, using his finger as a pencil.

                Kurt shoulder checks him. “I never said _never_. I just meant in public.”

                Blaine turns to look at Kurt and smiles. “Expect grandiosity from me on your birthday.”

                “As long as it’s behind closed doors, I’m fine,” Kurt laughs, skipping a bit ahead of Blaine to catch up with the guys and turning around to taunt Blaine. Blaine picks up his speed to catch up.

                As they walk their hands occasionally brush, causing Blaine’s blush to grow deeper in scarlet.

                When they get back to the dorm they all attempt to overrun the lounge located on the top floor. There’s a small room there with a TV, and often groups of people like to commandeer it and bring DVD players and movies or video game consoles and throw mini get-togethers and gatherings, since the room is much bigger than any dorm room.

                Tonight the group carries up a PlayStation and some movies. They’re lucky to find not only the room free, but also half of the lounge empty. They grab a couch and a love seat from the common area that no one is using and push it into the empty TV room—something they do all the time. Kurt and Blaine go back out to steal some chairs and a round table where they can throw snacks and drinks, and eventually play some poker.

                “I call couch!” Blaine hollers as he jumps onto the couch, snuggling into the corner. When Ben goes to sit next to him, Blaine pushes him off. “No no no no no. Kurt, here. You, there,” he says like a caveman, pointing and thrusting his hand to the other side of the couch. Ben just rolls his eyes and goes to his designated seat, letting Kurt sit down next to Blaine. But since there are seven people in the room and only five couch cushions, the couches get stuffed full, Kurt ending up half on Blaine’s lap. With their legs intertwined and Kurt’s head resting on Blaine’s shoulder, they watch the movie. It’s a generic action movie that the guys apparently love, or at least that’s what their hooting and hollering indicates.

                They stay cuddled up to each other for the entire two hours before the group dissolves towards the table, grabbing chairs to sit around it. Charlie breaks out his pack of cards and they start a game of Texas Hold ‘Em, betting candy instead of money. When they run out of candy they start betting promises and dares.

                “I bet two weeks of trash duty,” Ben says to his roommate Charlie. Charlie just rolls his eyes, lamenting about the fact that it doesn’t really matter because he always takes the trash out anyway.

                Charlie bets Blaine a bottle of vodka, which Blaine ends up winning before ultimately losing it to Kurt in the subsequent round. It’s fun and confusing and they all end up sharing the candy anyway. When it’s nearing one in the morning and they all have class that day, they start to clean up and head downstairs.

                “Help me with the couch?” Blaine asks Kurt. Kurt just nods demurely and gently settles himself on the couch, laying on his side.

                “Paint me like one of your French girls?” He asks.

                Blaine laughs. “Absolutely, darling,” he says. Charlie grabs the other end of the couch and they slowly maneuver it, with Kurt still on it, through the small doorway.

                “Don’t drop me!” Kurt screams, laughing hysterically as Blaine and Charlie angle the couch a bit to get it through the doorway.

                “My love, we’d never do such a thing!” Charlie exclaims in all seriousness, looking into Kurt’s eyes.

                They finally get the couch back to its original resting spot, and everyone else is putting away the last few chairs and heading towards the elevators to get back downstairs.

                “Care to join me?” Blaine asks, extending his hand to Kurt.

                Kurt looks up with a smile. “Gladly,” he says, grabbing Blaine’s hand and accepting his help up off the couch. When they’re both standing up he nervously interlaces his fingers with Kurt’s, afraid to look at Kurt’s reaction but assuming that if Kurt weren’t okay with it he’d pull away. He then walks towards the elevator where their friends are waiting inside and screaming for them to hurry up.

                “After you, my friend,” Blaine whispers to Kurt, embarrassed that he can’t get his voice to sound as debonair as he was aiming for.

                Kurt smiles, ducking his head and walking forward, hands still interlaced.

                They hold hands all the way to their room, where they have to break apart to grab a room key. Kurt lets them in quietly, smiling shyly at Blaine.

                “Have fun tonight?” Blaine asks hopefully.

                “Yeah,” Kurt smiles. “A lot.” He’s sitting on his bed and looking up at Blaine who’s standing just a few feet away, leaning against his desk.

                “Good,” he says truthfully. “I’m glad.”

                Kurt nods and they sit in charged silence for a few seconds. Kurt finally excuses himself to the bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush, washcloth, and soap on the way out.

                Blaine waits a few seconds after he leaves to jump up and down and twirl around in excitement before calming himself down and grabbing his toothbrush, too, going out to meet Kurt in the bathroom.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all like this update! I have 3 more chapters written already. Expect the next chapter in a few days. Hopefully on Thursday. I love hearing from you! Comments, kudos, reblogs, Tumblr messages--whatever medium, I don't care. Let me know if you like it or have any ideas or inklings as to what might happen next!


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter unfortunately won't be posted for about a week.

                It’s one of those rare days Blaine has the dorm room to himself and he _knows_ it will be for a while. Kurt’s in classes all day and Blaine’s Intro. to Modern Architecture professor cancelled class due to his pregnant wife falling into an early labor. So Blaine takes advantage of his time. He’s home for the day—he has no classes left and can enjoy his time. He lies on his bed and starts slowly caressing himself. It’s been a while since he’s last jerked off properly. He’s so afraid of Kurt overhearing or walking in, and after the last few incidents in the bathroom, dorm restrooms and showers are totally out of the question.

                His shirt’s off and his pants are unbuttoned—still zipped, but unbuttoned and flared open at the top. He runs a hand over his pectoral muscles while the other rubs the crease at his thigh. He can feel himself perking up, becoming interested, but he wants this to last. He _needs_ this to last.

                He runs a hand over his nipple. Dissatisfied with his body’s physical reaction he puts his hand to his mouth and licks his thumb and forefinger before returning them to his nipple, using his pointer finger to draw circles around his nipple. He shivers with sensitivity, letting out a soft groan when he finally lets the pad of his thumb harshly roll over his now hardened nipple.

                When he feels his cock, still half hard, jump with interest, he slowly moves his right hand over his erection, pressing firmly.

                “Ah!” He groans out, his hand slowly moving up and down his dick, which is getting harder every second.

                He stays like this for a few more minutes, reveling in the feeling of his body. He thinks about what it would feel like if it were someone else’s hand pressing into him. Thinks about how it would feel like with a body over him, breathing into his neck, nipping every so often and leaving marks.

                He imagines Kurt doing this to him. Kissing his way down Blaine’s body, spending time on his nipples before sucking a bruise into his hip.

                “Fu-uuck,” he grunts out, thinking how Kurt would look with his hand wrapped around Blaine’s dick. He quickly unzips his pants and kicks them to the end of the bed.

                “Oh fuck, Kurt. _Yes_.” His blue briefs have a wet spot formed at the top, and it’s slightly painful, the material on the sensitive head of his penis. So Blaine pulls the waist band down a bit, letting his dick pop out. He still takes his time running his fingers softly up and down his shaft. He’s been going at it for nearly twenty minutes, but he has no immediate need to get off. He wants to wait longer, tease himself more, build himself up until he can’t take it anymore and just _comes_ , all over himself. All over his fist and his body.

                He imagines this scenario. What it would feel like. What it _will_ feel like once his body gives in.

                When he almost can’t take it anymore and he’s sure his balls are purple-blue, he shucks his underwear off and tightens his grip around his cock. He gives himself a long stroke, unhappy with the friction. He grabs the lube sitting next to him on his bed and squirts a small dollop onto his fingers, rubbing them together before gripping his cock again, moaning at the cool feel and the effortless way his hand moves up and down. He throws the lube to the back corner of his bed—out of sight, out of mind.

                “Mmmm,” he sighs.

                When he picks up speed his grunts begin to get louder, and he has to chastise himself, gripping the base of his cock, to ensure he won’t get loud enough for the people in his hall to hear. He takes a deep breath to focus himself before tweaking each of his nipples. He slides that hand down to his freshly shaven balls, rolling them in his hands and applying gentle pressure, when an idea pops into his head.

                He’s never done this before, but he takes his lube slicked hand and presses his pointer finger to his asshole. He feels around, softly pushing at it, getting used to the idea of breaching it. He uses his other hand to stroke himself, his dick already wet with precum and lube.

                “Ah, yes,” he sighs. Pleasantly surprised at the buzzed feeling.

                When he feels satisfied with the tender probing, he begins to push his finger in. It’s weird, but not at all unpleasant. He pushes in further, slowly but with no intention of stopping until he’s all the way in. When he’s two knuckles deep and doesn’t think he can go further he takes a calming breath and a few seconds to get used to it. He continues to lazily stroke himself, not wanting to lose any hardness. After a few long seconds and a few more deep breaths, he begins leisurely thrusting into himself. The hand that’s stroking his cock grasps tighter, pulls harder, and suddenly all Blaine can think about is how hot this is—how _gay_ this is. He has a finger in his ass and it feels _good_.

                He thinks about how it would feel if Kurt were doing this. If this were his finger fucking Blaine, faster and faster, probing around his insides and looking to cause pleasure. Blaine gasps loudly at the thought. He has to bite his tongue to stop himself from screaming at the image that enters his head of Kurt finger fucking him while sucking his cock.

                “Ah. Ah. Ah!” He grunts, fucking his finger into himself harder, jerking his cock a little faster.

                He comes with a deep groan, painting his chest with come. He lets his finger slow down but he still keeps it moving, still wants it inside of him. When he’s finally feeling fucked out he removes it, grabbing his old and dirty washcloth to clean himself up.

                He looks at the clock and notices nearly forty minutes have gone by—a personal best. He’s never had a masturbation session last this long.

                He gets up to shove the dirty washcloth into the bottom of his laundry bin, along with his underwear. He grabs a new, fresh pair of briefs, puts his jeans back on, and then a t-shirt. Kurt’s not due to be home for another few hours, and Blaine is absolutely starving, so he heads to the dining hall with his laptop and his Geology notebook. After he eats he heads over to the library, hoping he can get a bit more work done there than he did in the loud cafeteria. He stays there much longer than he expects to, and when he gets back to his room Kurt is already there lying on his bed with his laptop on his lap.

                “Have fun today?” He smirks, looking up at Blaine with an eyebrow raised.

                Blaine gingerly places his bookbag on his desk chair, taking out his laptop and placing it on his desk. He looks up at Kurt with his eyebrows furrowed, unsure of the reason behind Kurt’s demeanor.

                “Yeah,” he answers truthfully. “I guess.”

                Kurt lets out a loud laugh and covers his mouth with his hand, trying to stop himself from breaking out in hysterics but unable to. “I can tell,” he’s able to spit out.

                “Huh?” Blaine asks, utterly confused. He’s standing in the middle of the room looking at Kurt in confusion. Kurt nods over towards Blaine’s bed where the covers are completely pulled down to the end of the bed, and in the corner, bright as day, is a half-filled bottle of Astroglide.

                “Oh my god,” he mutters out, embarrassment taking over his body like a prisoner. His face turns bright red and he runs over to his bed, grabs the lube, and shoves it into his drawer as fast as humanly possible, all while listening to the soundtrack of Kurt laughing and crying and spluttering, “Oh my god, Blaine. I love you. This is great.”

                When Kurt finally calms down enough to look at Blaine he says, “Seriously, that made my day. Thank you.” He laughs some more and wipes the tears from his cheeks. Blaine’s just sitting on his bed, back to his headboard, head hunched down, shoulders drawn up, and legs crossed in front of him.

                He looks up and nods, unable to look directly at Kurt, though. He’s never felt so embarrassed—so _ashamed_. Especially of his own body. Especially because his _crush_ found his lube and knows that he _just used it today_. The inner monologue that is running through his head non-stop keeps telling him to calm down. That it’s normal. That _everyone_ does it—including Kurt! That Kurt isn’t being mean to him, just laughing at a funny situation.

                He still can’t shake how humiliated he is though. And apparently Kurt can tell, because a few seconds later he feels Kurt standing next to him and he looks up expectantly, eyes wide and a bit wet.

                “Scooch over,” Kurt says, pushing Blaine to the side of the bed so he can sit down next to him. Their bodies are close, and Kurt grabs Blaine’s hand and interlaces their fingers. His other hand rubbing the back of Blaine’s hand and running up his arm in soothing motions. “Let me tell you about the time last month when my roommate walked in on me about to jerk off. I was pants-less but with the covers pulled over my lap. And my roommate seriously didn’t notice.” He gives Blaine a knowing look, hand still rubbing up and down Blaine’s arm. Kurt squeezes Blaine’s hand in reassurance. “And I had to wait there, _under my covers_ , for a half an hour until my oblivious roommate left to go shower before I could put my underwear back on!”

                Kurt breaks out laughing, and this causes Blaine to open up and smile a bit. He looks at Kurt, cheeks still rosy red, and quietly asks, “Seriously?”

                “Oh my god! Blaine! I was so _mortified_. I was literally just starting to jerk off and you just walk in and start talking about your day! I had no idea how you didn’t notice! I can’t believe I was able to grab the comforter in time before you saw anything!” They’re both laughing now, dissolving into giggles.

                “Feel better now?” Kurt asks in between gasps for air.

                “Yeah,” Blaine says, looking bashfully into Kurt’s eyes. “Much better.”

                “Good. Because I can’t go having a suddenly shy roommate.”

                “You know,” Blaine teases, feeling his confidence come back. “You could have always just texted me, _Don’t come back. Jerking off_. I would have given you some time.”

                “Oh yeah?” Kurt smiles. “I’ll remember that next time.”

                Blaine starts giggling again, causing Kurt to let out a few chuckles. They somehow end up lower on the bed, their hands still clasped together. Blaine is now lying on his back, Kurt on his side facing Blaine. He leans his head on Blaine’s chest and places his hand over Blaine’s stomach.

                “This feels nice,” he quietly declares.

                “Yeah,” Blaine sighs. “It does.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts and all that jazz are always much appreciated!


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, per usual, is completely unbetaed. So please (kindly and courteously) let me know if you see any mistakes.

                 It’s loud. It’s _really_ loud. And crowded. There’s music blasting from every corner of the room. People are yelling over each other, singing, screaming, cheering. Blaine can barely get from one side of the room to the other, and when he does it takes much longer than it should.

                He’s in a random house on a random street off campus. Kurt invited him. And when Kurt invites him somewhere, he goes willingly.

                The party spans almost the entire house. There are a few kegs in the unfinished basement, as well as a beer pong table and a make-shift dance floor. The living room upstairs is being inhabited by more people who are just hanging around and talking, occasionally dancing to the music that someone is controlling with an iPod. And Blaine wonders whose iPod that is and why they are just leaving it out on the table for anyone to touch, steal, or break. The kitchen houses even _more_ people, and the fridge is filled with hard liquor. He knows that people outside are smoking cigarettes and weed and taking a small break from the happenings inside, and that the upstairs is technically off limits, yet people keep disappearing up the stairs and returning a bit later looking obviously more disheveled, with sly and secret grins across their faces.

                Blaine came here with Kurt, Charlie, and Ben. Kurt knows the girl whose boyfriend lives in the house, and he was given free rein to come and bring whomever he wanted. So he invited Blaine, and Blaine accepted immediately. But when Charlie and Ben found out that he’d be spending his last Saturday night at a party with Kurt before going home a few days later for Winter Break, instead of getting smashed with them, they moaned and groaned so much that Kurt was forced to invite them along as well. Not that he minded. He’s become strangely close with the two of them, a fact that makes Blaine unbelievably happy. He loves knowing that these two worlds have collided, that these two completely different types of people can blend together and become friends.

                So all in all, Blaine’s really happy to be here with his three good friends. If only he could find them, that is. Because right now Blaine is stumbling into the kitchen, noticeably drunk but far more sober than a significant number of people here, looking for his friends who seem to have disappeared quite mysteriously.

                He spots the girl that Kurt is friends with at the fridge, grabbing a bottle of Smirnoff.

                “Hey!” he calls, smile stretching his face as he walks up to her. “Have you seen Kurt around anywhere?”

                She turns to look at Blaine, eying him up and down. It’s then that Blaine realizes that she obviously doesn’t know him—they’ve never met. Kurt only pointed her out earlier in the night.

                “Hummel,” he amends. “Kurt Hummel. I came here with him. He’s my roommate.” He has to scream the last part because the kitchen has gotten momentarily louder as a group of six or so guys walk through it to get to the back door.

                “No,” she says, pouring a liberal amount into her plastic cup. “Try downstairs.” She shoves the cap back on the bottle and practically throws the vodka back into the fridge, and walks away.

                Blaine stands there for a few moments before taking a sip of his own drink and heading towards the basement. He’s already checked down there, but that was ten minutes ago.

                About an hour ago Blaine ran into an acquaintance; a kid he shares a Philosophy class with was in the basement getting a cup of beer. They started talking and he refilled Blaine’s cup, effectively lengthening their conversation. Kurt, who was standing right next to Blaine, was smiling on shyly. When Blaine went to leave his friend urged him to stay and meet some of his buddies. Blaine tried to back off, not wanting to leave Kurt or make Kurt feel uncomfortable or bored, but Kurt assured him it was fine and that he could entertain himself. He left with a small grin and a peck to the cheek, leaving Blaine half startled and half hard.

                But now he just wants to find Kurt. He misses Kurt and doesn’t feel like meeting new people. He wants his friends. His mission has thus far proved fruitless, though.

                He makes the short trip to the basement fairly quickly, only having to push a few people out of his way who wouldn’t move from their spots. When he gets downstairs he doesn’t see Kurt, Charlie, or Ben. He does, however, see the keg—the very last keg. He downs the rest of his drink and heads towards the line, hoping to be able to get at least one more cup of free, shitty beer before the keg runs dry and he’s forced to sober up.

                After that he takes a look at his surroundings. His friends still aren’t in the basement, and he makes an educated guess that it’s likely Kurt won’t come down here at all for the rest of the night. Charlie and Ben, maybe. But right now the one half is filled with a bunch of people waiting in line to play beer pong, and the other half is filled with loud music and grinding couples. So in an effort to widen his search, he heads back upstairs and into the living room. After that he checks the bathroom and heads upstairs. When he sees that all of the doors are closed and hears the tell-tale sign of grunting and moaning he turns fire engine red and practically runs back downstairs.

                He has half a cup of beer left and is starting to worry that everyone has left without him. The party is still in full swing, though, and he hasn’t gotten any text messages telling him that his friends have left. He decides to head outside and clear his head a little. He has a really good buzz going on; he’s loose and happy and his body is thrumming with energy. But he misses his friends. He’s a very clingy drunk and it’s hard now because he has no one to cling to.

                 He heads out the back door, located in the kitchen, and onto a small, shoddy cement porch. There are about six people crammed onto it, drinking booze and talking animatedly. Blaine descends the steps into the much bigger backyard and looks around. It’s there where he finds Kurt. He’s standing in the middle of the yard, but off to the side, surrounded by a small group of guys and girls. He’s laughing, his cheeks rosy in spite of the cold. He has his winter jacket on and black gloves which are stopping the chill of his beer bottle from seeping into his hands. Blaine takes a minute to just look at him, at how happy and relaxed he looks. He never thought he’d see the day where Kurt was willingly hanging outside in frosty December weather, but he thanks his lucky stars that there’s no snow on the ground. In fact, it’s unseasonably warm for winter in the northeast.

                “Hey you,” he says, walking up to Kurt’s side. Kurt smiles back brightly, letting Blaine wrap himself around him, arms circling Kurt’s front and chin on his shoulder. Kurt leans back into Blaine’s warmth, and Blaine revels in the feel of holding Kurt’s weight. They sway for a second before breaking apart, and Kurt moves over to allow Blaine into the circle. Blaine still crowds in close, hand around Kurt’s waist. Not possessive of him, but not yet ready to let go of the person he’s spent the last hour looking for. He’s drunk off beer and happiness and he wants to communicate all of that to Kurt. The only way he can think to do it is with the touch of a hand.

                Blaine pays only mild attention to the conversation everyone is having. But Kurt seems absorbed in it. Blaine is just absorbed in Kurt; the way he feels, the way he smiles, the way he chuckles at some inside joke that Blaine doesn’t understand. When he looks over at Blaine, smile still bright, he whispers, “What’s up?”

                Blaine grins. “Nothing,” he replies dopily. Kurt just leans in and bangs their foreheads together. “Have you seen Ben and Charlie?”

                “Ben’s macking on some girl he just met. Charlie’s out here somewhere.” Kurt looks up and turns his head to the far back corner of the yard, nodding his head in that direction. When Blaine follows his gaze, he sees Charlie huddled out there surrounded by people. “He made some friends,” Kurt explains proudly, as if he’s happy to have helped Charlie branch out and meet new people—welcoming him into the crazy and kooky world of Kurt that revolves around house parties and conversations with friends as opposed to frats and one night stands.

                “Awesome,” Blaine responds, glad that Charlie found his own group of people to jive with.

                They turn back to the conversation at hand, and Blaine tries to pay better attention. He realizes that these must be Kurt’s friends, and he wants to make a good impression on them. Doesn’t want them to think he doesn’t care.

                When there’s a small lull in the conversation, Kurt takes the opportunity to introduce him to the group.

                “Oh,” he exclaims. “By the way, this is Blaine. Blaine, these are my friends.” He points them out when introducing them. “Mark, Mindy, Peter, and Ever.”

                Blaine waves to them all, issuing a friendly hello to each of them individually.

                “So _this_ is the famous roommate Blaine, right?” Ever asks as he turns to look Blaine in the eye, smiling presumptuously.

                “I didn’t know I was famous,” Blaine replies, goading Kurt.

                “Yes, Blaine. You’re very popular among my friends,” Kurt laughs, indulging Blaine’s ego.

                “Yeah. Especially after the infamous jerk-off story,” Mindy laughs.

                Blaine’s eyes go cold for a second, his jaw slack. He’s not quite sure what story they’re talking about. And the fact that at least two different scenarios come to mind probably isn’t a good thing.

                “Oh my god!” Kurt screams, swatting at her. His sudden movement and small lurch forward causes Blaine’s arm to fall off Kurt’s side. He keeps it down by him instead of putting it back on Kurt’s waist. “I haven’t even told him!”

                Kurt’s cheeks are red as fire, and while his tone is playful, his eyes are accusatory, oozing embarrassment and anger. Blaine stands in the group like a statue, not wanting any movements to betray him.

                “Seriously?!” Ever asks, looking between the two and trying to hold back laughs. He wipes his black bangs out of his eyes, smiling broadly. “Tell him!”

                The rest of the group laughs and nods in agreement, prodding Kurt to spill the beans.

                “Ugh,” Kurt groans. “Alright.”

                He turns to Blaine, who is still standing stock still, and blushes an even more furious red. He tries to look Blaine in the eyes, but when he continuously ends up averting his eyes towards the ground, Blaine’s stomach jumps.

                “I uh, I heard you,” he slowly mutters out, “…uh, jerking off…one night.” He still doesn’t look Blaine in the eyes as he rolls on the balls of his feet, hands clasped in front of him.

                Everyone is snickering around them, but Blaine is utterly confused. He can’t place this story. Can’t remember a time Kurt would have heard him masturbating. Was it in the shower those first few times? Or maybe one time he came home from class early, heard Blaine getting off, and left.

                “When?” Blaine asks.

                “Uhm,” Kurt stalls. “A while ago?” It comes out as a question.

                Blaine quirks an eyebrow at Kurt when Kurt finally looks up and meets his gaze, silently asking for clarification.

                “It was at night,” he finally cedes. “You thought I was sleeping. I uh…woke up.” Kurt somehow manages to keep his stare firm on Blaine’s. Blaine sees an apology etched into his eyes.

                Blaine can remember only one time that he jerked off in his bed while Kurt was there. One time that Kurt would have heard him masturbating without Blaine realizing. He suddenly understands the implications of this; the reason why Kurt is embarrassed. It’s not because he heard Blaine coming, but because he heard what Blaine said _after_ coming.

**_Fuck, Kurt. I wish that were you._ **

                “Oh,” he says, not quite sure what else to say. Kurt looks so sorry. And his friends seem to have started another conversation amongst themselves. “I have to go,” he decides, turning around on the spot and heading inside to the kitchen. He shivers, realizing how cold it actually is outside. The thought suddenly occurs to him that he doesn’t have his jacket. He places his unfinished beer in the trash and walks into the living room. There are still about twenty people in there, sitting on couches or standing around, all talking or dancing or laughing. He goes to the corner of the room and reaches behind an old and ugly orange couch—he, Kurt, Charlie, and Ben had all shoved their coats behind the couch when they got to the party for safekeeping. He retrieves his jacket and goes to leave.

                He’s not angry. Not upset. Not hurt. He’s insanely embarrassed and he really wishes that Kurt had just never told him this little tidbit of information, but other than that he just feels really confused. Because apparently Kurt has known about his crush for over a _month_. For almost _two_ months. He just feels a bit suffocated and could use some time to himself. He knows that he can’t avoid Kurt—and really, he’s not actually _trying_ to avoid Kurt. He’s just looking to piece together the puzzle pieces of his brain.

                He’s about to step out of the living room when a hand grabs his arm and pulls him back, forcing him to turn around.

                “Wait,” Kurt pleads, eyes desperate and glinting with wetness. “Don’t go. I am _so_ sorry, Blaine.”

                Blaine’s not really sure what Kurt’s sorry for, though. Sorry for telling him the story? Sorry for sharing it with friends? Sorry for waking up when Blaine was jerking off? He knows it’s not Kurt’s fault that Blaine’s moans woke him up. And while he’s not mad at Kurt, he does still wish that he never shared that story with other people. So he assumes that this is what Kurt is apologizing for. And, to be honest, he’s happy for the apology.

                “Mmhmm,” Blaine nods, because he’s not sure what to say. He feels a bit claustrophobic right now. “I have to go,” he declares, going to turn around again.

                “Please,” Kurt says, his voice breaking. “Please.” He says it stronger, and Blaine turns around and looks at him. “I’m _sorry_. I swear though, it’s not what it seems like.”

                Blaine’s confused even more now, because he’s pretty sure it’s exactly what it seems like. He jerked off to the thought of Kurt giving him a hand job. He did this while Kurt was barely three feet away. He came with Kurt’s name on his lips and Kurt overheard and told some of his friends. It’s pretty cut and dry.

                His confusion is probably evident, because Kurt screams, really fucking loudly, loudly enough for the entire room to hear, “I like you, too!”

                It’s an annoyingly perfect movie moment. At least for a second.

                People stop talking but the music keeps playing. They all pause their conversations to look at the two people standing in the middle of the room and apparently confessing their love to each other. One guy even sarcastically shouts out, “Awesome, dude. You go!” Replete with a lazy fist pump. But then everyone goes back to talking and ignoring them, and Blaine says, “Beg your pardon?”

                Kurt, whose hand is still encircling Blaine’s arm, lowers his hand to Blaine’s hand and begins walking towards the front hallway and out the front door onto the porch. He closes the door after them and turns towards Blaine.

                “I like you, too. That’s the only reason I didn’t mention it. I didn’t want to embarrass you either. And I know it seems as if I was gossiping about you,” he explains, “but I wasn’t. I just…I told them in confidence. I _know_ they haven’t told anyone. They’re just drunk and thought it would be a fun story to tell. They were under the impression that I already told you.” Kurt’s voice is measured; his words are slow and calculative. He doesn’t rush or babble or stutter, and the entire time he maintains eye contact with Blaine, as if trying to impart this information upon him is the most important thing.

                “Oh.” Blaine has literally been stunned into silence. He’s not quite sure what to say next, but he knows that the boy he likes, the boy who apparently likes him back, is holding his hand. He looks down at their intertwined fingers and feels Kurt squeeze it in reassurance. When he looks back up at Kurt he states confidently, “Let’s go home.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Just for the record, we really like Kurt's friends. They're great people. I hope you were able to understand that this was NOT a spiteful act. That it's actually kind of funny. Raise your hand if you've ever accidentally walked in on your roommate masturbating. *Both of my hands raise in the air and I then raise my legs, too*


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. I know I'm updating this later than I promised, but with everything that's happening now I decided that fic was the last thing on our minds, and rightfully so. I cannot properly express the sadness that has entered my heart after hearing that Cory has passed away. I wish only the best in the coming days, weeks, and months for Cory's friends, family, and loved ones.
> 
> Because of everything going on the next few weeks with Cory's autopsy, toxicology report, and funeral, as well as the future of Glee, the next chapter (which is already completed) won't be posted for a bit. Out of respect for Cory, I'd rather take the next few days to remember him than post fic.

                  He’s not so confident when the door to their dorm room closes. He lost it all on the walk home. He and Kurt disentangle their hands to take their gloves and coats off, and Blaine proceeds to sit on the edge of his bed. Kurt takes his time putting his jacket in the closet before stepping quietly to his own bed and sitting down, facing Blaine. There’s only a few small feet in between them, but it’s a hard barrier to break right now.

                “I really am sorry,” Kurt says earnestly.

                “I know,” Blaine responds truthfully. “I don’t hold it against you or anything.”

                He’s sitting on his bed, his legs hanging off and feet planted firmly on the ground. His hands are lying on his thighs, resisting the urge to play with his jeans or clasp onto each other.

                “They are the only people who know the story,” Kurt continues, staring into Blaine’s eyes and not letting him look away. “I swear it.”

                Blaine just nods. He’s feeling overly anxious and starting to lose his coolness. He’s never seen Kurt so extremely serious, and it’s starting to tear him down and make him want to fidget under the intense gaze. But before he can, Kurt starts talking again.

                “I told them one night when we were hanging out. That I liked you.” Blaine watches as Kurt’s eyes grow big—bigger than he’s ever seen them. He’s being so honest and truthful, throwing himself on the line, and Blaine wants him to know that there’s no need to be so serious. That this situation really isn’t as dire as Kurt seems to think it is.

                “Kurt,” he interrupts. “It’s okay.” He throws on a small smile and lifts his hands in surrender. “Really. I’m over it. I was just…confused?” His eyebrows furrow, displeased with his inability to explain how he feels. “ Scattered,” he amends a second later.

                Kurt just nods, one leg shaking up and down.

                “So you like me?” Blaine says, smiling shyly.

                Kurt laughs and blushes, but maintains eye contact. “Yeah,” he says simply.

                “Good. That’s convenient,” Blaine jokes. “Because I like you, too.”

                The tension in the room evaporates rather quickly, and Blaine can’t help but smile and joke and play around. It’s just Kurt and Blaine now. No weirdness between them. They’re still best friends—and then some.

                “So if you like me so much,” Kurt fires back, “What do I have to do to get you to come over here?”

                “Not much,” Blaine responds with humor. “Maybe flash an ankle or something. _Really_ get me going.”

                “Oh, Blaine!” Kurt gasps. “You scandalous pervert.”

                Blaine gets up and walks the two large steps to Kurt’s side of the room, smile still gracing his face and stretching his cheeks out, and puts his hands on Kurt’s shoulders. He’s taller than Kurt now, and he likes it when Kurt looks up at him with awe and affinity.

                “Total pervert,” he agrees, pushing Kurt down. He hears Kurt gasp, and then they’re lying on his bed together, laughing. Kurt’s on his back with Blaine lying on his side, head cushioned on Kurt’s chest and hand around Kurt’s stomach. He tangles their legs together, reveling in the closeness. He rubs his hand over Kurt’s abdominals a few times. “Tomorrow I’m going to take you out on a date,” he says plainly, no longer afraid that Kurt will turn him down.

                “Perfect,” Kurt says. “I can’t wait.”

                “You say that now,” Blaine responds, lifting his head to look Kurt in the eyes. “But just wait until I show up to your dorm room with a bookbag and some 100 Calorie Snack Packs and drag you to a private room in the library and have my way with my Philosophy texts.”

                “Scandalous. Nothing turns me on more than eighteenth century philosophers,” Kurt deadpans.

                “How about after studying? If I promise to make it an early night. I know you have a final the next morning.”

                Kurt lifts his head up a bit and knocks his nose against Blaine’s. “That’d be perfect,” he whispers.

                Blaine smiles back, unable to stop looking into Kurt’s eyes. He’s never been allowed such closeness—not just with Kurt, but with anyone. He’s never been able to be so physical with someone he likes.

                Kurt closes the gap, and suddenly Blaine finds his lips attached with Kurt’s. It’s brief and wonderful; not too dry but not too wet. There’s no tongue involved, but just feeling his lips against Kurt’s for the first time is amazing. When they separate they smile at each other, and Kurt cradles Blaine’s face, running his thumb over Blaine’s eyebrow.

                “That was fun,” he says.

                “The most fun,” Blaine agrees.

                Kurt laughs and playfully shoves him onto his ass so he’s sitting up on the bed. Kurt follows him, leaning against the backboard.

                “So about that hot date,” Kurt says. “Is it taking place in the afternoon or the evening?”

                “Evening,” Blaine responds immediately. “I don’t plan on waking up until at least eleven. Study in the afternoon, come home and shower, get spiffy, and then pick up this hot guy I know who, for some reason, is blind enough and deaf enough to humor me and let me take him out for a night on the town.”

                “Eh. He’s neither blind nor deaf. A bit smitten, though.” Blaine notices Kurt avert his gaze and smile when he says this, so Blaine just grabs his hand and squeezes.

                “I am, too,” he admits.

                He squeezes Kurt’s hand again, causing Kurt to look up at him.

                “Wait, I just have to do this again,” he says apropos of nothing, leaning forward without explanation and kissing Kurt again. It’s just as short as their first kiss, but also just as exhilarating.

                Kurt laughs at him, shaking his head.

                They stay on the bed and talk for a bit before separating to change into pajamas and go to sleep. Blaine grabs a book to read, not tired enough to fall asleep yet. Kurt, however, passes out immediately. And when Blaine wakes up at noon, he wakes up to an empty room and a note on his alarm clock saying, _Off to the library. Can’t wait for tonight!_

*******************

                Blaine spends the better half of the afternoon freaking out. He wants the date to be perfect and he isn’t sure what qualifies a ‘perfect date.’ He also needs to study, but finds himself unable to concentrate—always anxious about what is to come. He settles on dinner at this Afghan restaurant that he’d never been to, but that Kurt waxed poetic about after going there once with friends. He decides that going to the movies is out of the question, but also that a walk in the park isn’t going to be enough. So he goes back and forth on a few ideas, too stubborn to call a friend and ask for help.

                When five o’clock finally rolls around, Blaine leaves the library and heads back to his dorm. He opens it to the site of a fully dressed yet damp roommate towel drying his hair.

                “Hey,” Kurt says, smiling brightly at Blaine. “I wasn’t sure what the deal was tonight, so I came home early to get ready.”

                Blaine actually facepalms.

                “Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” He feels terrible about actually forgetting to tell his date the final plans, or give a time and a dress code. “I feel like an idiot. Is seven okay? Or is that too late? We can do six-thirty.”   

                Kurt places a calming hand on Blaine’s upper arm and squeezes. “Six-thirty is fine, Blaine. So is seven. Whatever works for you.”

                With a groan, Blaine lets his head fall onto Kurt’s shoulder. “I’m so bad at this,” he mutters.

                Kurt chuckles and rubs the back of Blaine’s neck before demanding that he go shower and get ready.

                “Aye aye, Cap’n!” Blaine salutes as he walks to the closet to get his towel and shower caddy. He begins undressing, like he normally does, only to hear a wolf whistle from the other side of the room.

                “Dayum, Anderson. Putting on a show before the first date? Me like.”

                Blaine blushes and laughs and wraps the towel around his waist, shimmying out of his briefs. His back is to Kurt and he turns his head, throwing his underwear over his shoulder so they land on Kurt’s bed, right next to him. “There’s more where that came from, stud.” He tries to sound sexy and sultry, but he can’t make it through the sentence before cracking up. Kurt laughs, too, and throws Blaine’s underwear into Blaine’s laundry basket as Blaine walks out the door.

                When Blaine comes back from the shower he kicks Kurt out, saying that he needs to get dressed without Kurt’s wandering eyes sexualizing him. Really he just wants privacy to cool down and get dressed. He doesn’t want Kurt to see him freaking out or change his outfit ten times—which, he won’t ever admit, he actually does end up doing.

                Afterwards he shoots Kurt a text, telling him to get ready and that he would pick him up at six-thirty. He leaves the dorm and walks onto campus, searching for the small florist that he’s passed only a handful of times. He picks up a single daisy. Not for any particular reason other than it’s pretty and Kurt deserves all the pretty things.

                By the time he gets back to the dorm he relaxes in the common room for five minutes before catching the elevator to his floor and walking to the door.

                When he knocks he hears Kurt scream a muffled, “Coming!” He stands up straight and prepares himself, gets the daisy in front of him and plasters on an enthusiastic smile.

                Kurt opens the door and emits a surprised gasp. “Blaine,” he says. “Do you have your key?”

                Blaine just lifts the daisy up and puts it in front of Kurt. “For you,” he deflects. He wants to make Kurt feel like a prince, yes, but he also wants this date to be perfect for himself as well. He’s never been on a date, and he wants this one to be the best possible.

                Kurt blushes and takes the offered flower before walking back to his desk and placing it delicately on the top shelf.

                “Thank you,” he says.

                Blaine nods and extends his arm. “Ready?” He asks.

                Kurtwinds his arm around Blaine’s and they head out of the room and catch a bus to the restaurant. Their arms stay winded together throughout the bus ride and the short walk to the restaurant.  When they eventually have to separate, they keep their feet touching under the table, hands occasionally knocking together on the wooden table. And when Blaine pays the bill, Kurt thanks him with a kiss to the cheek and an extended hand; they walk out of the restaurant with their fingers entangled.

********************

                “That was fun,” Kurt comments after getting off at a bus stop on campus.

                “I’m glad,” Blaine replies. “But the night’s not over yet!”

                Kurt quirks an eyebrow in question. “Where to?”

                “In the mood for improv?” Blaine asks.

                There’s an on-campus improv group that performs in the basement of one of the college’s buildings. It’s largely audience participation, which makes it extra hilarious—especially when you get to watch your friends stand up and participate and fail tremendously. Blaine’s only been there a few times, but he knows that Kurt loves it but unfortunately doesn’t get to go as often as he’d like. The school is holding one last improv night before the end of the semester, and Blaine is hoping that this will be a great way for him and Kurt to spend some time together. It’s fun and low key and he knows that Kurt will get up there and perform.

                “No way!” Kurt practically explodes in happiness. “Yes! Yes yes yes!”

                Blaine chuckles and heaves a sigh of relief, happy that Kurt is definitely okay with his decision.

                They walk into the building and Blaine pays for both of their tickets, ignoring Kurt’s squawk of protest. They grab a seat in the middle of the stands, their hands still interlocked. It’s there that they spend the next two hours laughing and smiling and having fun. When they leave, Blaine drags Kurt to their local fro-yo place and grabs the biggest cup possible and fills it with four kinds of fro-yo and all the delicious toppings he can imagine and forces Kurt to share it with him. Kurt laughs and refuses, claiming he’s still stuffed from dinner, but Blaine just begs and begs and begs until Kurt finally gives in, and Blaine feeds him the first spoonful. He only grabbed one spoon, so this forces him and Kurt to act super coupley while sitting at a table inside, sharing a single spoon and occasionally feeding each other.

                The entire night is the best combination of fun and intimate and ridiculous, and Blaine cannot be happier. So when he walks Kurt back to the dorms he bids him farewell at the door with a single kiss before watching Kurt open the door. When Kurt turns around to beckon Blaine inside, Blaine just smiles and grabs the door handle and closes it for Kurt, walking down the hall to the bathroom. He pees and washes his hands before coming back and letting himself in. Kurt’s sitting on Blaine’s bed with a silly smile on his face, and Blaine asks, as innocently as possible, “Oh hey, Kurt! Didn’t know you were here. How was your night?”

                “Oh, you know,” Kurt replies. “It was good. Had dinner, went to improv, and got ice cream. Yours?”

                Blaine’s slowly getting undressed and hopping into his pajamas, and Kurt stands up to change into his own. “Oh, it was great! Thanks for asking.”

                Kurt chuckles and shakes his head, stepping into a pair of sweatpants. He takes his shirt off and walks back to Blaine’s bed and sits down. Blaine joins him, shirtless as well.

                They’re sitting next to each other, backs against the headboard and legs intertwined down the super slim mattress. It’s a tight fit, but they manage. They always have, after all.

                Kurt grabs Blaine’s hand and says softly, “I think I’m gonna keep you around a bit.”

                “Yeah?” Blaine asks, honestly curious and extremely hopeful.

                “Yeah,” Kurt replies, looking into Blaine’s eyes as if he’s trying to impart a particularly important message.

                “Good,” Blaine whispers back, knocking his forehead against Kurt’s. They stay like that for a second until, with impressive strength and clear intention, Kurt rolls onto Blaine and pushes him a foot or so down the bed so Blaine is on his back and Kurt is on top, hands on either side of Blaine’s shoulders.

                “Ah,” Kurt sighs. “This is better.”

                He’s leaning on his arms, his torso a solid foot above Blaine’s. Kurt lowers himself slowly so he’s lying on top of Blaine, their legs still intertwined.

                “Oh God,” he moans. And Kurt kisses him; his tongue entering Blaine’s without a second thought, without any hesitance or permission seeking. And Blaine just groans.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments, questions, and inquiries are always welcomed.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is completely written and just needs to be looked over by me, myself, and I. It will (hopefully) be posted on Wednesday. Otherwise y'all will have to wait until sometime next week.

                 They’re lying on the bed and making out. Kurt’s on top of him—his weight an ever present indication that Blaine is not making this up—and they’re _making out_. Blaine has made out with only a small handful of guys before, and most with the help of some liquid courage. But here he is, sober as can be, making out with the guy of his dreams. He hopes he’s not terrible, but so far Kurt doesn’t seem to have any complaints.

                It starts out slow and passionate, and they stop ever so occasionally to smile into each other’s lips and bang noses together. They laugh and whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears and necks.

                And then, after a while, it gets a bit more heated.

                Kurt stops trying to keep his hips elevated above Blaine’s. And Blaine is only too aware of the growing pressure between both his and Kurt’s legs. When Kurt starts doing little rocking motions, Blaine can’t stop himself from letting out soft moans of pleasure.

                “Is this okay?” Kurt asks before reattaching his lips to Blaine’s neck, which Blaine is thankful for. He’s never had someone kiss his neck before and he’s surprised at how good it feels. Suddenly the thought of hickies—something he once thought sleazy and low class—is sounding quite good to him.

                “Yeah,” he grunts out, hips bucking up a little to show his complete dedication to this new step in their relationship.

                Kurt moves down the bed a bit, lips trailing from his neck to his shoulder before making their way to Blaine’s collarbone and reattaching itself with a firm suck and a small nip. Blaine lets out a moan of appreciation and arches his neck backwards, hoping it will help his lungs expand and take in more air.

                When a bruise has most certainly been sucked onto Blaine’s collarbone, Kurt moves back up a bit and places a few quick kisses on Blaine’s lips.

                “How’re you feeling?” He asks, voice breathy.

                Blaine can’t respond properly and just grumbles out a few unintelligent huffs and moans, topping it off with an eye roll.

                Kurt laughs and buries his head in the crook of Blaine’s neck, arms rubbing at either shoulder.

                “I take it that means you’re good?”

                “More than good,” Blaine breathes before hauling Kurt up and leaning up to kiss him. Blaine doesn’t think he could ever get tired of just kissing. It’s fun and it can be steamy and hot, but it can also be silly and intimate and special. He loves that he knows all of this yet he’s only been kissing Kurt for half an hour. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough, but it’s a theory he’s willing to test out and pursue.

                He slides his tongue seamlessly into Kurt’s mouth and revels in the little squeak of surprise that Kurt emits. It’s the first time that Blaine takes control of the kissing and he loves the power that it gives him—loves the idea that he may be able to make Kurt groan and sweat and ache for more. He strokes his tongue along Kurt’s before licking around his mouth a bit. When he pulls his tongue back Kurt chases after it, but Blaine just kisses Kurt’s upper lip, nipping a bit when Kurt groans in disapproval.

                “More. I want more,” Kurt puffs out.

                Blaine complies and kisses him more. He’s shocked, yet infinitely pleased, when Kurt brings back the grinding that they were doing earlier. He can feel Kurt’s cock through the material of their sweat pants, can feel it swell with interest, and it only fuels the fire that is his erection. Kurt’s entire body is just lying on top of his, keeping him grounded warm and turned on, and Kurt just keeps thrusting faster.

                “Fuck,” Blaine grunts out on a particularly good thrust. He is fully hard now, and the drag of Kurt’s dick along his is so painfully good. He could do this for hours, he thinks. He starts thrusting back a bit, giving Kurt a little help in that area.

                “More,” Kurt groans, biting onto Blaine’s neck. Blaine’s not sure what he means, but he starts thrusting a little faster, a little harder. But Kurt just groans in frustration and rolls them over so they’re both on their sides, facing each other. His hand trails down Blaine’s side, starting from his armpit, as he goes back to making out with Blaine, little moans escaping each of their lips. When his hand gets to Blaine’s hip he moves it around the back and dips it below the sweatpants and squeezes the globe of Blaine’s ass, causing a spark of arousal to shoot through him. Blaine moans and thrusts his hips forward in approval before pushing back onto Kurt’s hand—a silent request for more.

                Kurt trails his hand from Blaine’s ass to his thigh and squeezes tightly, manhandling Blaine so his leg is over Kurt’s thigh. They kiss a bit more, but it’s an awkward angle and Blaine can’t thrust forward very well—can’t get any relief. He whines a bit but keeps surging forward and kissing Kurt, content with what’s happening. Kurt, however, has other plans. He rubs his hand up and down Blaine’s thigh before trailing it slowly to the front of Blaine’s pants, rubbing the backs of fingers lightly over Blaine’s underwear-clad dick. Blaine shudders at the feeling, not expecting the night to ever take this turn. Kurt stops his light touches and kisses Blaine’s cheek and nose and eyebrows, making his way around Blaine’s face with light pecks.

                “I’ve never done this before,” Blaine whispers, feeling suddenly embarrassed.

                Kurt removes his hand from Blaine’s pants, which isn’t something Blaine entirely _wanted_. But he is glad for the moment is allows him to think. He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths hoping to center himself. Kurt uses his thumb to caress Blaine’s cheek, forehead pressed right against Blaine’s.

                He whispers slowly and softly, but with meaning, “It’s okay if you want to stop.”

                Blaine nods his head in understanding, his nose catching on Kurt’s, before answering.

                “But I don’t.”

                He opens his eyes and looks at Kurt, letting the smile tugging on his lips bloom and grow. Kurt answers back with his own smile, and Blaine takes this opportunity to surprise Kurt by rolling on top of him and attaching himself to Kurt’s neck.

                “Oh God,” Blaine hears Kurt moan. He takes it as a good sign, glad that he’s apparently decent at this thing called making out.

                The only problem is that Blaine doesn’t exactly know what to do next. He knows that he and Kurt are in agreement with the fact that they will be doing more than making out tonight, but he’s not quite sure what that _more_ is. Nor is he sure how to get there.

                And while he isn’t quite positive as to what that _more_ is, he _is_ positive about what that more _isn’t_. And it’s something he knows Kurt needs to be forewarned about.

                So when he starts kissing his way down to Kurt’s left nipple, giving it a few lips and sucking the skin right next to it, he blurts out his limits.

                “I don’t want butts involved!” He practically screams. When he realizes how loud and aggressive he sounds, his cheeks go red and he lifts his head up from Kurt’s chest to look guiltily into Kurt’s eyes. He repeats himself with far less fervor. “I uhm, don’t want butts involved,” he coughs out. He can’t really look at Kurt’s eyes for too long, and he finds his own wandering around the pillow and headboard where Kurt is lying.

                Kurt, however, doesn’t have a problem with maintaining eye contact, and he runs a comforting hand up and down Blaine’s sides before pushing him off of his lap. Blaine now feels really bad, like he said something that he shouldn’t. Or that he’s not ready for something that he should be. He starts scratching his shoulder and rubbing a hand through his face in anxiety.

                “Care to elaborate?” Kurt asks, lifting Blaine’s chin with his hand so that they are looking at each other.

                “I want more tonight, too,” Blaine manages to speak. “But I’m not ready for—“ he falters, not sure how to phrase his next thought. “Anal,” he mutters out. It’s dry and clinical, but he’s not sure if saying _fucking_ or _sex_ would have been detailed enough.

                “Blaine,” Kurt smiles. “That’s perfectly fine. Thank you for telling me.” He leans in and kisses Blaine on the lips, smiling into it.

                “Oh. Okay then. Good,” Blaine says, happy that apparently they won’t be having anal sex tonight. “Can we continue on then?” He asks hopefully.

                “Continue with what?” Kurt speaks seductively, nipping on Blaine’s jawline.

                “With what….we…” Blaine groans, “were doing.”

                “This is what we were doing,” Kurt murmurs.

                “Fuck,” Blaine groans. He’s totally forgotten what he and Kurt were talking about, because the back of Kurt’s hand is now rubbing teasingly along the outline of Blaine’s sweatpants-clad cock.

                “Hey Blaine?” Kurt asks, lips grazing Blaine’s ear. “What are your thoughts on handjobs tonight?” He quickly pulls back and looks Blaine in the eye, imparting his opinion that, “It’s no big deal if you’re not ready.”

                Blaine just splutters. “You mean your hand on my—” he motions towards his dick and Kurt moves his knuckles up and down Blaine’s dick again.

                “On your cock,” Kurt whispers into Blaine’s ear.

                Blaine groans and falls to his side, situating himself on his back so that Kurt has to straddle one of his knees.

                “I’m partial to that idea,” Blaine grits out, followed by a loud moan.

                Kurt laughs and leans down to kiss Blaine. Their tongues fight for dominance, and in the end Blaine willingly backs down and lets Kurt take what’s now his.

                While they kiss, Kurt begins to pull Blaine’s sweatpants down. They separate so Kurt can pull them the rest of the way off, followed by his own, so they are down to just their boxer briefs.

                Kurt’s sitting up on his knees, straddled between one of Blaine’s legs, and Blaine is sprawled out below him. He’s leaning back on his elbows trying to catch his breath as he looks up at Kurt and admires the view.

                “You are so hot,” he says without thinking.

                Kurt chuckles and leans down to kiss him—Blaine meets him in the middle for a sweet kiss.

                Kurt’s hands go to play with the top of Blaine’s briefs. “Mind if we get rid of these?” His eyebrows are quirked in question, and it’s the first time tonight that Kurt’s voice betrays him, displaying his inner nervousness.

                Blaine shakes his head and responds, “Go ahead.” When his briefs are completely off he leans up a bit farther so he can slide Kurt’s off. When they get to Kurt’s knees he lays back down as Kurt awkwardly maneuvers them off. He has to lean forward onto Blaine a bit so he can kick them off his feet, and Blaine chuckles at how unsexy and ungraceful the situation is. How unlike porn and rated _R_ movies it is. Yet somehow the realness of it just makes it ten times hotter for Blaine, because he takes the opportunity to kiss Kurt again, groaning when their cocks align.

                He thrusts up a bit to get more friction and Kurt’s body melts against his. They move together  for a bit, kissing each other on the lips, the cheeks, the necks, until Kurt grabs Blaine’s dick in a loose fist and Blaine groans loudly.

                “ _Yes_. Fuck.” He jerks up so his cock slides through Kurt’s dry grip, and Kurt sits up and leans on his knees again so he’s looking down at Blaine.

                He tightens his grip a bit and slowly begins to jerk Blaine off. Blaine mewls a lot and lets out tiny hiccups of whines. He tries to keep his eyes open and focused on the fact that _Kurt’s hand is touching his dick_ , but it’s so hard to stay alert when his body feels so raveled tight and tense with pleasure.

                He really want Kurt to lean down and kiss him, but he doesn’t know if Kurt will still be able to jerk him off if he does, so Blaine foregoes asking for it and submits himself to the feeling of his first hand job.

                “You’re so hot,” Kurt says, eyes blown wide as he licks his lips. “I love the noises you make.”

                Blaine doesn’t even realize that he is still whimpering in pleasure until Kurt says that, and he just moans higher and louder. “Gonna—gonna come,” he manages to grit out.

                “Good,” Kurt says.

                Blaine whines three more times before coming all over his stomach and chest. Kurt rubs him through it, muttering over and over again how hot Blaine is.

                Blaine, for his part, just falls into the bed. He can hardly move—hardly keep his eyes focused. He needs a second to breathe because that was single handedly the hottest moment of his night.

                “Fuck, Kurt,” he says. But all he gets in response are Kurt’s groans, and when Blaine lifts himself up to look at Kurt, who’s still straddling his leg, he’s greeted with the sight of Kurt’s come-soaked hand jerking himself off. Blaine’s eyes widen in surprise and he emits a tiny whimper, wondering if it’s possible to get hard so soon. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything so hot as this. That is, until Kurt actually comes on Blaine’s stomach. “Ohdeargod,” Blaine breathes out, grabbing the back of Kurt’s neck and pulling Kurt towards him. Their lips smash together, and it’s mostly teeth at first, but it’s still so fucking hot.

                “Fuck,” Blaine says in between kisses. “So hot, Kurt. So hot.”

                Kurt just groans in agreement and shoves his tongue into Blaine’s mouth. He lowers his body onto Blaine’s, and it’s weird at first, since Blaine still has come drying on his stomach. But it’s still totally worth it. They kiss for a while and roll onto their sides to kiss some more. When the fervor fades away and they’re just trading lazy kisses back and forth, Blaine whispers into Kurt’s ear.

                “That was amazing. Thank you.” He says it with such earnestness, hoping that Kurt can pick up how grateful he is to have had this experience. Kurt responds with a shy smile and knocks their foreheads together so they can look into each other’s eyes.

                They stay like that for a few seconds, just smiling at each other, until Kurt’s dirty hand brushes Blaine’s stomach and a little bit of dried semen flakes off Blaine’s stomach _and_ Kurt’s hand.

                “Ew! Gross,” Kurt mutters. Blaine laughs and rolls over onto his back.

                “That’s what you get for blowing your load on me!” He jokes.

                “Yes, because you were clearly an unwillingly participant.”

                “Oh, I was willing, alright,” Blaine smiles. He rolls off the bed and walks naked to the mini fridge, grabbing the Brita filter that’s on the side of the door. He then walks to his laundry basket and grabs a dirty washcloth before pouring some of the water from the Brita onto the washcloth and rubbing the wet cloth on his stomach and chest, removing all of the dried come he can.

                Kurt looks on with disgust on his face. “Really, Blaine? _Really?_ ”

                “What?” Blaine asks. “I’m not walking to the bathroom now.”

                Kurt just shakes his head and looks at the clock. His face becomes serious and his voice stern.

                “Wait. Is that really what time it is?”

                Blaine looks at the clock. “Yeah,” he says.

                It’s two thirty-six in the morning, and Kurt has a final at ten.

                “Fuck,” he says, climbing out of Blaine’s bed. He takes the offered washcloth to lean his hand before giving it back to Blaine, grabbing a fresh pair of underwear from his drawer, and putting it on. “I’m screwed.”

                “You’ll be fine,” Blaine comments while putting the Brita away and throwing the now even dirtier washcloth back into the laundry basket. He walks to his own dresser and grabs a clean pair of underwear. He’s not sure what the protocol for this is—for _after_ hand jobs and coming and making out. But Kurt assuages his confusion easily when he hops into his own bed and pulls the covers open.

                “Hop on, cowboy. Your bed is a mess. But be warned, sleeping two to a dorm bed is uncomfortable. And my alarm goes off at seven-thirty.”

                “Aye Aye, Cap’n!” Blaine responds with a school boy grin, hopping into bed with Kurt so they’re facing each other.

                Kurt pulls the covers over them. “Big spoon or little spoon?” He inquires.

                “Little spoon,” Blaine decides, wanting to be held. He turns away from Kurt so Kurt can wrap his arms around him and settles into the touch. He wiggles around a bit, unable to get comfortable, and after a few minutes he realizes why.

                “Kurt?” He whispers, sure that Kurt’s awake but wanting to be quiet just in case.

                “Yeah?” Kurt responds.

                “Can I be the little spoon still if I turn around and put my head on your chest?” He likes cuddling Kurt that way more, likes the closeness that transpires when he’s curled around Kurt that way.

                “You can be the little spoon any way you want,” Kurt replies, scooting back a bit so Blaine has more room to flip his body. He drops his head on Kurt’s chest and wraps his one arm around Kurt’s torso, reveling in how safe he feels when Kurt’s arm encloses around his back and rubs up and down.

                “Much better,” Kurt sighs.

                Blaine smiles and closes his eyes, hoping to catch a little sleep before he has to get up and start the day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Thoughts? Concerns? Anyone want to tell me what the best thing they ate this weekend was? I'm dying for a good, warm, melt-in-your-mouth cookie right now.


	8. Chapter Eight

                 He sleeps until nine forty-five. When Kurt woke up at seven-thirty and quietly climbed over Blaine, Blaine muttered a request for Kurt to set his alarm for him. He then drifted easily back into a deep sleep while Kurt made his way to the floor outside his exam room so he could cram before the doors opened and the test began.

                Blaine rolls out of Kurt’s bed and pads over to his desk. He turns off his alarm and grabs his cell phone, shooting off a quick text to Kurt wishing him good luck on his final. Afterwards, he changes into his clothes, brushes his teeth, and grabs his key and wallet, walking down to Charlie’s door.

                He bangs loudly and screams, “Wake up, Charlie. We’re grabbing breakfast!”

                “Go away,” Charlie groans back, loud enough to be heard through the door.

                “No chance in hell,” Blaine responds. He continues knocking on the door until Charlie opens it. Blaine’s faced with a disgruntled looking, partially asleep, half naked best friend. “Go throw some clothes on,” he says.

                Charlie moves to the side so Blaine can scoot past and then closes the door behind him.

                “I hate you,” Charlie mutters.

                After Charlie gets dressed Blaine tells him to grab his bookbag so they can study afterwards. Charlie and Blaine each have one more final tomorrow, and Blaine knows he’d rather have a friend in the library with him to force him to pay attention to his work. He’s so bored and tired of studying that if no one were to force him to pay attention, he’d just spend his time in the library watching Netflix, surfing the internet, or sleeping.

                They head down to the dining hall, which is nearly empty, and grab some waffles, eggs, and bacon, before heading over to a side booth big enough for only two people.

                “It’s not even ten thirty. It’s too early,” Charlie grumbles. He’s in a sour mood—not that Blaine can blame him. Finals week stresses everyone out. So in order to cheer Charlie up he entertains him with conversation on topics he knows Charlie cares about. Like the cool new friends Charlie met at the party over the weekend that he hung out with again last night.

                “Remind me to shoot Kurt a thank you text for letting me come with,” Charlie thinks aloud.

                “Talking about Kurt,” Blaine segues, cutting a piece of syrupy waffle with the side of his fork and shoving it in his mouth. “We had sex last night.”

                Charlie actually chokes on his bacon, spitting it out all over the table.

                “Ew! Gross,” Blaine scoffs, shaking his arm out which is covered in Charlie’s spit.

                “You _what?_ ”

                Blaine wipes his arm down with his napkin before crumpling it up and placing it on the side of the table. “We had sex,” he replies plainly, not even trying to hide the grin that blossoms.

                Charlie keeps looking at him for clarification, so Blaine gives him a quick rundown of the weekend’s events.

                “Kurt told me he liked me at the party. We went out on a date last night. Then we had sex.”

                Charlie’s eyes are still bugged out of his head, and Blaine’s cheeks are rosy with pride.

                “So are you two…dating?” Charlie asks.

                Blaine ponders this for a second, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I guess. I mean, we went on _a_ date. And I want to take him out on another one.”

                “Huh,” Charlie sighs. “This is so…” he derails. “Congrats, man,” he finally settles on.

                “I’m happy.”

                “I can tell,” Charlie smiles. “So like, doesn’t he leave tonight?”

                Blaine totally forgot about this point. He’s taking a seven o’clock bus home. “Shit,” he says.

                “So much for studying today, right?” Charlie asks.

                “I guess I’ll study after he leaves? I kind of want to spend more time with him.”

                “While you’re at it, ask him to be your boyfriend.” Charlie grabs his empty plate and stands up, walking over to the dish racks. Blaine follows slowly behind him wondering if it’s too soon to ask Kurt to be his boyfriend. Do they have to date more? And more importantly, are they exclusive?

                He meets up with Blaine at the exit of the dining hall, their backpacks hoisted on their backs.

                “Do you think we’re exclusive?” Blaine asks.

                “Huh?”

                “Kurt and me. Like, he said he likes me. So are we exclusive?”

                “I don’t know. I mean, you slept together once. Went on one date. So maybe? I know if I were in your position with a girl, I wouldn’t be sleeping with other people. At least until I found out if we were exclusive or not. I mean, do you even _want_ to sleep with other people?”

                “No,” Blaine responds quickly. “Not at all. I just don’t think I want him to, either.”

                “Well, that’s something you’re going to have to bring up with him.”

                Blaine nods his head, deep in thought.

                “Alright,” Charlie interrupts. “I’m headed over to the library. Sure you don’t want to come?”

                Blaine checks the time on his cell phone. It’s already eleven-thirty. Kurt’s final lasts two hours, though he’s positive that Kurt won’t need the full two hours anyway. He knows he needs to study, but he also knows he wants to see Kurt. He goes back and forth as to what he should do and finally decides that Kurt’s the better option here.

                “Yeah. I’m gonna head back to the room. But if you’re still studying tonight I’ll meet up with you.”

                “Aight. I’ll text you later. I plan on pulling an all-nighter,” Charlie says walking backwards and talking to Blaine.

                Blaine salutes and turns around to head back to his dorm. On the ten minute walk home Blaine considers the situation. He doesn’t want to be unprepared when he walks into his room and sees Kurt. He may not know where Kurt stands in their relationship, but he at least will know where he stands.

                If he could have his way then he and Kurt would be in an exclusively monogamous relationship…right now. But he understands why it may be too soon to jump to that point. They’ve only been on one date—and it was last night. He knows that the idea of Kurt being with anyone else in the same way that he was with Kurt last night is a total turn off. The thought alone makes him hurt—the idea that he is not enough and Kurt needs to find more elsewhere.

                He knows that he’s jumping to conclusions, but he wants to get his facts straight. And right now these facts are that he would like to be in a relationship with Kurt, but that it may be too soon to call it just that. He _definitely_ doesn’t want to be just friends with Kurt. And apparently Kurt doesn’t want that either, as evidenced by what happened last night.

                He’s starting to panic, not sure what to do next, when his phone vibrates.

_i know youre overthinking things. Just stop. Take it one step at a time_

                It’s from Charlie, and it’s the perfect kick in the butt he needs. He decides to do just that—take it one step at a time. Eventually he’ll get the guy.

* * *

                When he gets back to his dorm room Kurt is already there, duffel bag on his bed and clothes thrown all over the room.

                “Hey!” he says when Blaine opens the door, folding up a pair of jeans.

                Blaine smiles back, taking a step into the room. Kurt has turned to look at him and Blaine really wants to walk up to kiss him, but isn’t sure if he’s allowed to—if he’s _supposed_ to.

                It’s a whole new level of _uncomfortable_ that Blaine feels. He’s such a confident guy; he’s very rarely been so unsure in his own skin. He doesn’t feel weird, exactly. He just doesn’t know how to act in front of Kurt now. He’s not sure if he and Kurt are on the same level or a completely different one.

                So in order to avoid any potentially awkward encounters, Blaine shakes himself free of his worries and offers Kurt a shining smile in return.

                “How did your final go?” He asks, honest curiosity tainting his voice.

                “It went well,” Kurt shrugs, going back to folding his clothes.

                Blaine drops his bookbag off on his bed and sits on the edge. He contemplates taking his laptop and notes out and studying, but reminds himself that the entire point of coming back to his room was so he could be with Kurt. He pushes through the quiet and decides to engage Kurt in conversation.

                “Excited about going home?”

                Kurt starts putting the empty hangers that are littering his bed back in his closet. “Yeah,” he responds after a thoughtful sentence. “I’m more excited for the month long break than I am for going home, though.”

                Blaine nods in agreement. “It will be weird being back under my parents’ roof. And like, not having school or parties or anything.”

                When Kurt’s finished with the hangers he zips up his duffel bag and throws it onto his desk chair. Blaine looks on curiously.

                “The rest can be packed later,” Kurt explains. “Tooth brush, deodorant…all that jazz. I’d like to brush my teeth before getting on a grimy bus.”

                “Ah,” Blaine exhales. “Gotcha.”

                “So,” Kurt responds, seemingly oblivious to how awkward Blaine feels, “Wanna grab a bus downtown? I haven’t seen the Christmas display yet.”

                “Totally,” Blaine grins. They grab their jackets and gloves and head out of the dorm and to the closest bus stop. Kurt purposefully brushes Blaine’s shoulder on the walk over and it makes most of Blaine’s worries melt away. He can’t help but feel hopeful about everything when Kurt keeps his hand so teasingly close to his own.

                When they get downtown Kurt grabs Blaine’s hand and pulls him towards the large Christmas tree that is decorating the town square. Blaine laughs but follows obligingly, his heart skipping a few beats when Kurt doesn’t let go of his hand. They laugh and talk and ask strangers to take their picture in front of the tree. Blaine is able to convince Kurt to try the outdoor skating rink and buys them both tickets _and_ rents them skates, even when Kurt puts up a fight about his lack of financial input.

                “Kurt, it’s fine,” Blaine smiles. “I _want_ to do this.”

                “Fine, but hot chocolate is on me.”

                “Good. It better be,” Blaine sasses back.

                When they get on the ice Blaine isn’t sure if he should grab Kurt’s hand. He _wants_ to, but taking that leap is big and scary. So for the time being they stake around the circle with their shoulders close and hands occasionally brushing. Kurt’s a surprisingly good skater…as long as he’s not doing spins or jumps or trying to skate backwards.

                “Stop showing off!” Kurt says when Blaine skates a bit in front of him and turns around, skating backwards so he can see Kurt’s face.

                Blaine laughs. “I can’t help it!” He responds with a smile. “I want to be able to see you.”

                “Well see me from the side,” Kurt states, trying his best to speed up to catch Blaine. He ends up tripping on his skates though.

                “Woah there!” Blaine nearly shouts, jumping forward to grab Kurt’s fore arms and haul him up. “Watch out.”

                Kurt playfully glares back at him. “Not all of us can be as gifted as you.”

                “No. You’re right,” Blaine juts his chin out, his voice affecting an air of nobility. “It’s quite difficult being a man of my grace, beauty, and—”

                “Humility?” Kurt interjects, wrapping his arm through Blaine’s.

                “Why yes,” Blaine confirms, forcing in his laughter.

                They’re skating slowly now, and Blaine’s reveling in how easy this is—this _being together_. He envies Kurt for always being so confident in his own skin and with this situation; he wishes he were able to be as straightforward about what he wants and just take it and know that Kurt won’t turn him down.

                He decides that right now he’ll take that leap.

                He speeds up a bit, his arm slipping away from Kurt’s. Before it completely detaches, though, he grabs onto Kurt’s hand and drags him forward so that they’re skating hand in hand.

                “This okay?” He asks shyly.

                Kurt grins and squeezes Blaine’s hand, nodding his head. “Eh. I could get used to it.”

* * *

                After skating Kurt makes good on his promise and buys them the finest of shitty, outdoor food stand hot chocolate milk he can find and even a hot dog to boot. They sit on a bench a few blocks away at a frost covered park and eat their lunch. They spend the next hour window shopping and occasionally stepping into a store or two to regain feeling in their limbs. It’s thankfully not snowing, but it’s cold nonetheless.

                “I have to head home soon,” Kurt says after checking his phone. He has to get back, grab his luggage, and then come all the way back downtown to get to the MegaBus that will take him home.

                They stroll to the next bus stop and catch the next bus back to campus.  Kurt washes his face and brushes his teeth before packing up the rest of his stuff.

                “Well,” he says standing with his book bag already on his back and his duffel at his feet. “I guess it’s time for me to go.” He’s wavering back and forth, and it’s the first time today that he has seemed at a loss as to what to do next.

                “Let’s go then,” Blaine responds, grabbing his keys and standing up from his bed.

                “What?” Kurt asks, completely taken aback.

                “I’m taking you to the bus stop.”

                “Really?” Kurt asks, but Blaine’s already nodding and grabbing Kurt’s luggage.

                “Duh.” He shakes his head as if the answer’s obvious. There’s no way he was just going to sit here and let Kurt go alone. He’s not worried about Kurt’s safety or anything; no, he’s worried about Kurt’s _sanity_. Waiting outside in the freezing cold MegaBus line with no one to talk to? It’s a fate worse than death. Especially because every time Blaine’s used MegaBus it’s been late.

                Kurt grabs his arm and stops him. “You don’t have to do this,” he says seriously.

                “But I want to.” Blaine looks right into Kurt’s eyes letting him know how genuine he is being.

                “Okay then,” Kurt breathes out, smiling. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

* * *

                The line is, in fact, long and cold and boring. And because they missed the bus they were supposed to grab they ended up getting to the bus stop later than Kurt wanted to, which means they are at the back of the line. Which means that he will be one of the last people to get on the bus. Which means he’ll get an aisle seat instead of a window seat and he’ll have to be _that_ person who asks someone if the seat next to him is taken, ruining that person’s hopes and dreams of sitting alone.

                He spends the half an hour waiting in line bitching and joking and complaining and laughing about this situation, and Blaine can’t help with laugh back. He totally understands. He hates when people sit next to him on long bus rides.

                When the bus arrives—ten minutes late—and the line starts moving, Blaine picks up Kurt’s luggage and walks with it. After he hands it over to the workers to put it in the bus he goes to wave goodbye to Kurt, but Kurt pulls him aside instead.

                “What’s up?” Blaine asks.

                “I’m gonna miss you,” Kurt responds, hands finding their way to Blaine’s chest.

                In turn, Blaine slowly moves his hands towards Kurt’s hips, giving Kurt enough time to bat them away or step back, but he never does, so Blaine pulls Kurt a little closer.

                “I’m going to miss you, too,” he admits.

                Kurt smiles big and wide, cheeks rosy from the wind and the cold. “I’m glad,” he says before doubt seems to creep up and his eyes flash an alarming shade of worry. “I want to make sure we’re on the same page,” he admits. “We are on the same page, right?”

                Blaine thinks about it for a second. Thinks about how close they are right now physically. How emotionally close they’ve been for the past few weeks. He thinks about Kurt grabbing his hand today. Thinks about Kurt admitting to liking him—admitting to his own _friends_ that he likes Blaine. And he realizes that yeah, they are on the same page. They have to be.

                In response he leans forwards and places a delicate kiss on Kurt’s lips. He pulls back too soon and can’t help but smile and lean his forehead against Kurt’s shoulder.

                “I’ll take that as a resounding yes,” Kurt laughs.

                They stay in the embrace for a second before Kurt realizes he has to go and crush someone’s happiness by sitting next to them. They kiss one more time before breaking apart.

                “We’ll talk,” he states. It’s not a question or a statement of worry. He’s not asking for reassurance. He’s just speaking a fact. They _will_ talk. They’ll talk and text and this month apart won’t stop them from growing closer. It won’t tear them apart. Blaine’s sure about it. He’s positive.

 


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so much longer than expected. August is a hard month for writing--a lot of real life stuff going on. Hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm anticipating that the next chapter will be the last! Perhaps an epilogue as well? Who knows. (Seriously though. Who knows? If you do, please tell me.)

 

                Blaine is hardly ever home. He’s always out doing something or hanging with someone. If he’s not working he’s out with friends, driving across the state and camping in random locations. He and his friends will stay up drinking, laughing, and getting reacquainted with each other—trading college anecdotes and dreams for the future. He’s stayed up for numerous sunrises, carting himself back to town in the morning so he can stumble into work on time and exhausted, but with a smile on his face nonetheless. If he’s not sleeping in a tent with hordes of other people surrounding him to keep warm, then he’s camped out in someone’s basement playing video games and drinking beer. Not all of his friends are as adventurous as him. Though really, he has never been this bold or audacious. On days he can’t travel far he finds himself relaxing with a few close friends, laughing and reliving inside jokes. He’ll get home relatively early and pass out on his bed, leaving the next day as soon as he wakes up.

                In between his camping and gaming and biking and swimming, he texts Kurt. They text more than they talk, but they Skype more than they call, so it’s an even balance in the end of communicating through the written word and the spoken word.

                Kurt seems to be just as busy as he is, but they schedule in weekly Skype sessions that last anywhere from fifteen minutes to four or more hours. When Blaine spends the nights at home, he often finds himself curling up in bed and talking to Kurt until the sun rises.

                “I miss you,” he says one night. It’s so late that the heat has automatically been turned down and Blaine’s a bit chilly. “If you were here right now you’d be keeping me warm.”

                It’s three in the morning and he’s feeling loopy on lack of sleep, his words barely censored and coming out slow and dopily.

                “Yeah?” Kurt smiles. “Says who? Shouldn’t you be the one keeping me warm?”

                Blaine’s lying on his side looking into the computer screen. Kurt’s sitting up in his bed, his screen on his lap and his hair a mess.

                “We’d keep each other warm,” Blaine concludes. “And we’d do it in the nude.”

                Kurt laughs, his face stretching with happiness.

                “Is that what you do to keep warm on those winter camping trips to God-knows-where?”

                “Yes,” Blaine nods. “Me and my friends all get in a naked, sweaty man pile and hump friction against each other. Big men,” he says, his voice low and reminiscent of lame cavemen stereotypes. “Fat men. Men warm. Blaine warm.”

                “You are ridiculous,” Kurt chuckles.

                Blaine laughs back.

                “There’s something wrong with me,” he admits.

                “Yeah, it’s called lack of sleep!” Kurt sasses back, his smile having not left his face.

                “I really wasn’t joking when I said I can’t wait to sleep with you, though,” Blaine replies honestly. “I miss just cuddling with you. And we haven’t had a chance to cuddle since we’ve started…” he trails off, not sure how to categorize their current relationship.

                “Dating?” Kurt supplies.

                Blaine nods. “Yeah.”

                 “Well,” Kurt continues, “In less than two weeks we get to see each other and if you’re good, I promise immediate hugs and cuddles.”

                “Two more weeks? I don’t know if I can hold out that long,” Blaine replies.

                Kurt smiles. “Guess you’ll have to go back to those big, naked, sweaty men and get your cuddle on with them.”

                Blaine laughs. “Ew. Gross. Half my friends are so hairy, Kurt! It’s disgusting. Even seeing them in their bathing suits gives me the heebie jeebies.” He scrunches his face up in distaste.

                “Well, don’t worry. There’s not much hair coming from my side. So I can ensure you hairless cuddles.”

                “Can you ensure me hairless dates, too?” Blaine asks, sitting up against the headboard and placing his computer on his lap, wanting a better view.

                “Huh?” Kurt asks.

                “Dates,” Blaine replies. “Can we date some more?” He realizes after he says it how lame he sounds, and he laughs at himself. “God, that did _not_ come out how I wanted it to.”

                “How did you want it to come out?” Kurt asks.

                “I was hoping to sound a bit more suave, actually,” Blaine laughs.

                “I guess we can go on a few more dates,” Kurt says slowly. “But I’m kind of hoping we can go on those dates as boyfriends…” He trails off, not looking at Blaine.

                “Oh my god, _Kurt!I”_ Blane squeals. “ _Did you just ask me to be your boyfriend?!_ ”

                “Yes. And apparently I’m not very suave, either.”

                Blaine squeals and does a kicky-feet motion, causing his laptop to bounce up and down.

                “Oh my God!”  He exhales, dopy smile on his face.

                “I hope that’s an exclamation of acceptance,” Kurt says, pointed look on his face, reminding Blaine that he should probably give Kurt an answer.

                “Affirmative, Captain,” he grins.

                “Oh my God. That smile is so creepy,” Kurt looks away, laughing himself.

                Blaine doesn’t stop smiling, but he does get a bit more sober.

                “I was kind of hoping we’d be able to spend our first night as boyfriends together.”

                “Yeah, me too. But if I promise to stay on Skype with you, do you promise to not hold it against me that I asked you over Winter Break?”

                “As if I’m upset you asked me now. Seriously, Kurt, you could have asked me before I met you and I’d still say yes.”

                Kurt quirks an eyebrow. “Really…” he says drily.

                “Well, on looks alone I’d have agreed. The personality’s not so bad either,” Blaine jokes.

                “It is a bit tough getting used to my high maintenance personality, larger than life ego, and incessant need to be pleased,” Kurt jokes wryly.

                They continue talking and joking and laughing into the morning, and when it gets really late they both lie down and look at each other, speaking softly and quietly, telling each other what they’re going to do when they see each other. It’s tame and romantic. Kurt promises to give Blaine all the cuddles he needs, and Blaine promises back that he’ll hold Kurt’s hand everywhere they go and give him a kiss for every day they spent apart. Kurt falls asleep first, and Blaine shuts his laptop, puts it on his desk, and rolls over to sleep. It’s almost five in the morning and he has to work at ten, but he certainly doesn’t regret his late night. Especially since he got a boyfriend out of it.

* * *

                The next week and a half goes by quickly. Blaine has a few last get togethers with his friends, hangs out with his family, and makes enough money to hold him over until he gets a job on campus—something he neglected to do his first semester there that got him in trouble with his parents. He even manages to hound Kurt into accepting his relationship request on Facebook, something Kurt is initially unprepared to do, thinking it is silly and tacky, but that Blaine is able to convince otherwise using the extremely dirty tactic of phone sex.

                He gets back to school before Kurt does and goes about unpacking. It’s a Monday, and classes don’t start until Wednesday, but most people are coming in today anyway. Kurt’s bus is due to arrive at nine that night, and Blaine promises Kurt that he will meet him at the station, even though Kurt insists that he doesn’t _have_ to.

                He stops by a corner bakery on his walk to the bus stop to grab Kurt a chocolate chip peanut butter cookie, thinking that while it may not be as romantic as a flower, it’s tastier. Plus, it’s big and Kurt and Blaine can share it.

                When he gets to the bus station he waits against the wall with the other people. The bus comes a few minutes later and Kurt’s one of the first people off the bus. When he spots Blaine he smiles, running up to him and hugging enveloping him in a bear hug, cheeks touching.

                “Hey there, stranger,” Blaine smiles, placing a soft kiss against Kurt’s jaw line. “I got you something.”

                He pulls away from Kurt and hands him the bag with the cookie.

                “It’s no longer warm. But it’s good,” he promises.

                Kurt takes the bag gratefully and pulls the cookie out, laughing when he sees a few large chunks missing.

                “I see someone couldn’t wait,” Kurt smirks.

                “Your boyfriend was hungry,” Blaine blushes.

                Kurt shakes his head and says, “Of course he was.” He takes a bite himself and then grabs Blaine’s hand, walking towards the back of the bus where people are grabbing their luggage. Blaine grabs Kurt’s duffel while Kurt finishes off the cookie and they walk hand in hand to their bus stop, catching the first one back to their dorm room.

* * *

                “Want to unpack?” Blaine asks when they walk through the door.

                “Later? I _really_ want to eat. I haven’t eaten all day.” Kurt shrugs out of his winter coat, flipping his shoes off as he walks to his bed and grabs the plastic box stored under it. It has some ramen, stale Cheez-Its, and canned soup. Before break he threw out everything that would spoil.

                “Fuck,” he says, standing up and kicking the box back under his bed.

                “We can order in pizza? Ramiro’s is still open. And they’ll deliver!” Blaine’s sitting on Kurt’s bed, kicking his feet back and forth.

                “Works for me. Order? I’ll start unpacking.”

                Blaine orders a plain pizza and a bottle of Sprite, too lazy to walk to a store and buy one. After that they get started on unpacking.

                “Here,” Blaine says. “Give me all the stuff that needs to be hanged up.”

                Blaine gets to work on that while Kurt unpacks everything else. They talk a bit about their breaks, although they already know mostly everything. When there’s a comfortable lull in the conversation, Kurt turns to Blaine and says, “I missed you.”

                Blaine walks up to Kurt and hugs him, arms squeezing tight around his shoulders and head dipped comfortably in Kurt’s neck. “You have _no_ idea,” he responds.

                They kiss, tongues touching lightly. But they’re smiling too much to really do anything other than lightly peck each other. They pull apart when Blaine’s phone goes off, alerting him that the pizza delivery man is there.

                “Be back.” He grabs his wallet and heads downstairs.

                When he gets back to the dorm Kurt’s in a pair of Blaine’s basketball shorts and a plain white t-shirt, sitting on Blaine’s bed, remote in hand.

                “I figured we could eat and watch TV or something. I’m not in the mood to go out,” he says.

                “Sounds perfect,” Blaine replies. He puts the pizza on his desk so he can get changed into his pajamas before putting a few slices on a plate for himself and Kurt. They sit on the bed, backs against the wall, legs entangled and shoulders touching, as they watch TV and talk. When they finish eating Blaine puts the extra slices in their mini-fridge and puts the dirty plate on his dresser. He hops back to his former position and grabs Kurt’s hand, entangling their fingers and leaning his head on Kurt’s shoulder.

                “I’m really glad you’re my bee-eff,” he tells Kurt.

                “Me, too,” Kurt replies.

                “Next year, though. Next year we’ll get our midnight, New Year’s kiss.”

                Kurt nods his head. “Yeah, that sounds fair.”

                They fall asleep a few hours later above the blankets, hands still clasped.


	10. Chapter Ten

               “So what’s it like living with your boyfriend?” Ben asks one afternoon in the shampoo aisle of a local Target.

                Ben, Charlie, and Blaine are spending their afternoon food shopping and doing laundry together. Blaine has no clean underwear, Charlie has no food, and Ben needs a new lamp. His had an unfortunate meeting with the sidewalk when Ben drunkenly threw it out of the window thinking his (equally drunk) friend would catch it.

                “It’s good,” Blaine replies, scanning the labels for a cheap conditioner.

                “Just good?” Ben asks.

                Blaine rubs at his elbow, “I mean, yeah. What were you expecting me to say?”

                “Oh, I don’t know. Glorious. Exceptional. Animalistic. Boner-Inducing.” Charlie’s sliding across the aisle on the cart, and Blaine laughs as he tries to swat at him, but Charlie goes by too quickly. He jumps off the cart when he gets to the end of the aisle and pulls it back to where Blaine and Ben are so that Blaine can throw his products into the cart.

                “It is. It’s all of those things. I mean, I love it—don’t get me wrong. But I don’t think I’m going to request to live with him next year,” Blaine supplies shyly, not looking at either of his friends.

                “What? Why?” Charlie asks soberly.

                “I think that living together could really…hinder our relationship,” Blaine decides on.

                Ben gives a curious look, and Blaine sighs, grabbing the cart and moving onward.

                “I think that we need to have our own space. I think we haven’t been dating long enough to live together. And I don’t want to become dependent on him. And I know he doesn’t want to become dependent on me. And I just think that we both need to grow some more.”

                “Are you guys, uhm, drifting apart?” Charlie asks, walking next to Blaine.

                “No,” Blaine assures confidently. “Not at all. I mean, we fight sometimes. And we get tired of each other a lot. But we see each other _all the time_. It’s weird. And like, every time I go out somewhere and he’s in the room I feel obligated to invite him. And like I said, I think we both need some time to ourselves.” He picks up some shaving cream and throws it in the cart. “Where to next?”

                “Let’s get the lamp then the food,” Ben responds, grabbing the cart and leading the way.

                “Have you talked to Kurt about this?” Charlie asks, still walking next to Blaine.

                “Kind of? We’ve... _acknowledged_ that there’s a problem. Or not a problem, but that there’s definitely something blocking us from growing outward.”

                “Huh?”

                “Ugh,” Blaine groans, wringing his hands together. “We both know that there’s something going on, but we haven’t said it in so many words. Housing forms are due in a few weeks, so I guess we’re gonna have to bring it up then.”

                “So who do you plan on living with then?” Charlie asks as Ben picks up a few different lamps, examining them.

                “You have a roommate?” Blaine laughs sarcastically, assuming he’ll have to be placed with a random roommate.

                “I do now, partner!” Charlie says with an exaggeratedly obnoxious western cowboy accent, throwing his arm around Blaine’s shoulder.

                “You’re not living with Ben?” Blaine whispers, not knowing if there was a fight between the two, and not wanting Ben to overhear their conversation.

                “Of course I am. We’re gonna get a suite! Duh,” Charlie shakes his head, clasping Blaine on the back before walking up to Charlie and grabbing the lamp that’s in his hand. “It’s a fucking lamp. Just put it in the cart and let’s go. I need to buy some bacon.”

* * *

                When a few weeks pass and the issue of housing next year hasn’t been brought up, Blaine gets a little nervous. He’s afraid that Kurt is just expecting that they will live together next year, and Blaine doesn’t want to dash any of Kurt’s hopes or expectations.

                It’s four days before housing forms are due, and Kurt and Blaine are hanging out on Blaine’s bed watching TV. It’s Wednesday and they both have plans to go out with different friends for dinner, but it’s only five in the afternoon and they have a few hours before their friends are expecting them.

                Kurt’s sitting on his butt on the far end of the bed—back to the wall and legs dangling off the edge. Blaine’s lying on his stomach, cheek resting on Kurt’s thigh, watching the television while Kurt plays with his hair.

                “If I say something about our relationship, do you promise not to get mad at me?” Kurt asks, apprehension evident in his voice.

                It’s enough to make Blaine seize up. He carefully lifts himself from his position and sits up so he can face Kurt and hear what he has to say.

                “Of course,” he responds firmly, though he’s paralyzed with fear on the inside. He can’t recall a single conversation with Kurt that started along these lines.

                “About next year,” Kurt starts, eyes wandering all over Blaine’s face—never focusing on his eyes. Kurt rubs his hand through his hair, effectively messing it up, and letting out a deep sigh. “Our roommate request and housing forms are due soon,” he finally settles on, staring at the door behind Blaine’s left shoulder.

                “Yeah,” Blaine says, still looking at Kurt.

                “We should fill them out.” Kurt speaks slowly and carefully, and Blaine furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

                “You’re acting weird,” he blurts out. “What’s going on?”

                “Shit. I’m sorry,” Kurt sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “Fuck.”

                There’s a moment of silence before Kurt looks at Blaine and continues.

                “I really, _really_ like you, Blaine. You know that right?”

                Blaine nods his head quickly, affirming the statement.

                “I just,” Kurt continues, “think we should maybe not live….together next year?” Kurt’s voice raises an octave, and ends in a stuttering and questioning tone.

                “Oh,” Blaine exhales. “We should probably, uhm, talk about this actually.” Blaine takes a deep breath. “I agree.”

                “Oh. Okay. Can I ask why?”

                “Huh?” Blaine questions, eyebrows furrowing.

                Kurt looks back at Blaine with the same confusion written all over his face.

                “Maybe we should start over,” he says.

                “I think that would be best, yes,” Blaine agrees, wanting to clear the air and start this conversation from scratch so they’re both on the same page.

                “Okay. I think me and you should continue to date, but do so in different dorm rooms,” Kurt says.

                “I agree. I like you—a lot. But I think this is—this living together—is a lot of pressure, and I don’t want it to ruin us or anything,” Blaine explains.

                “It’s been hard, hasn’t it?” Kurt asks, scooting closer to Blaine and grabbing his hand.

                “Yeah, a bit. I wouldn’t change it though. I’m just afraid of what will happen if we keep living together. And what if we did live together and we didn’t work out. Then we’d be stuck in the same room for God knows how long,” Blaine rants.

                Kurt’s slowly massaging Blaine’s one hand and nodding along. When Blaine finishes speaking and he hides his face in his free hand, Kurt leans forward and grabs Blaine’s chin, pulling it closer to he can kiss Blaine lightly.

                “There,” Kurt says. “Much better.”

                Blaine tries to smile, but it comes out a bit more like a grimace.

                “What’s wrong?” Kurt asks.

                “Nothing,” Blaine says.

                Kurt looks at him skeptically.

                Blaine sighs. “I was afraid to bring it up,” he says quietly.

                “Bring what up?” Kurt asks.

                “Bring up the whole housing and roommate thing.”

                “Why?” Kurt’s still rubbing Blaine’s hand, and Blaine’s finding it hard to look at Kurt.

                “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, or for you to feel like I don’t like you as much as I do.”

                “Well, that’s…stupid, Blaine. That’s really stupid,” Kurt replies.

                “It’s stupid that I don’t want to hurt your feelings?” Blaine deadpans.

                “No. No, it’s not. Let me try again.” Kurt scoots even closer to Blaine, throwing his legs over Blaine’s. “Don’t stress out about this, okay? I like you, you like me. Neither of us think it’s wise to live together next year, but not because we don’t like each other. I just think we need our own space. But you’re always welcome in my space. Seriously, Blaine. Next year I expect you to frequently be all up in my space.”

                Blaine grins, shaking his head a bit.

                “I hope you’ll be all up in my space, too.”

                “Oh, I will,” Kurt ensures, voice loud and confident. “Blaine, I’ll be completely up in your space. I’ll be so up in your space that your space will be my space.”

                “Great. I’ll be sure to keep an empty drawer for you,” Blaine banters back quickly,, rubbing Kurt’s nose with his own, happy that the tension he was feeling has left his body.

                “Oh golly, what a swell boyfriend I have. Saving room in his trunk for me.”

                “If that’s a sex joke, I refuse to hear it!” Blaine laughs, trying to push Kurt off his lap.

                “Blaine,” Kurt says, fake seriousness oozing out of him, “I would never make a joke about coitus.”

                “Uh huh,” Blaine says, trying hard to hide a smile.

                “Really, Blaine,” Kurt’s eyebrows are raised, eyes wide. “You must believe me. I’d never joke about your ass.”

                Blaine laughs and keeps pushing Kurt off his lap, but Kurt’s arms are wrapped around his neck and Blaine’s realizing all too well what those hours at the gym are doing to Kurt’s upper arm strength.

                “Hey Blaine, do you want to know what my favorite thing about your ass is?”

                Blaine knows where this is going—knows how dirty Kurt can be. It’s something his friends never expect, and every time Blaine tries to tell them that his boyfriend can be a little minx they never believe him, never believe that Kurt could be inappropriate or make sex jokes.

                “Should we fill the paperwork out now?” Blaine asks, hoping to deter Kurt from continuing on with what he knows will be a terrible sex joke, appropriate for only a fifteen year old boy to say.

                “When my dick is in it,” Kurt replies anyway.

                Blaine shakes his head, laughing. “You’re terrible. Now go get your computer,” he says with authority.

                “Yeah yeah,” Kurt says. He stands up and grabs his laptop off his desk before coming back to Blaine’s bed. “Here,” he hands Blaine the computer. “Log on. We can do yours first.”

                Blaine logs onto his University’s Student Center and pulls up the Housing Form. He starts filling it out, pausing only when he gets to the Roommate Selection section.

                “I have to confess something,” he says, his voice wavering slightly. Kurt nods his head and Blaine continues. “I kind of already have people to live with next year.”

                “Well that’s good,” Kurt replies with confidence. “I’d hate for you to have to room with a rando. Let me guess, Charlie and Ben?”

                Blaine blushes and nods.

                “I’m living with Ever,” Kurt shrugs, knocking his shoulder with Blaine’s.

                Blaine finishes filling out the rest of the form and hits Complete before logging out and giving it to Kurt so he can fill out his form.

                “We probably should have talked about this sooner, right?” Blaine asks.

                “Probably. I mean, if we’ve been having issues living with each other we should have brought it up.”

                “I don’t have problems living with you!” Blaine rushes to say.

                Kurt merely looks up from the screen and quirks an eyebrow. “Really?” He says, voice oozing with doubt.

                “I don’t! I just think that—“

                “We have problems living together?” Kurt interrupts.

                Blaine chuckles, “Yeah. Okay. Maybe.”

                “Then maybe we should talk about it now,” Kurt suggests.

                “You know what? I think I’d rather not. Let’s just keep the line of communication open. Right now I have absolutely no problems living with you.”

                “Good. Because right now I have no problems living with you either,” Kurt says as he closes his laptop and puts it on the dresser next to Blaine’s bed. He grabs Blaine’s shirt and pulls Blaine towards himself so Blaine ends up straddling Kurt’s legs as Kurt lies on the bed. “Wanna have sex?” Kurt asks frankly.

                “God yes,” Blaine replies, leaning down to kiss Kurt.

* * *

                “You know, I think I’m going to miss this,” Kurt says.

                It’s the last week of school before finals, and Blaine and Kurt are naked in Kurt’s bed, above the covers. It’s incredibly warm outside—even hotter inside—and the two fans they have do little to cool them down. Blaine’s lying with his head upon Kurt’s chest, listening to Kurt’s heart beat as his chest fills with air.

                Breathe in, chest fills. Breathe out, chest falls.

                “Miss what?” Blaine asks, holding Kurt closer and burying his face further into Kurt’s warm neck.

                “Miss living with you.”

                “We’ll see each other all the time,” Blaine replies, placing a feather light kiss on top of Kurt’s heart and rubbing his nose there.

                “Yeah, I know. But still, it was nice.”

                “I agree.”

                “You ready for the end of your freshman year?” Kurt asks.

                Blaine thinks about it for a minute. He thinks about all the people he met. He thinks about how much he grew, emotionally and physically. He thinks about how awkward he was when he first came to college, and he thinks about how awkward he is now (awkward, yet confident and happy and at peace, he reminds himself). He rubs his hand over Kurt’s chest as he thinks about all of the friends he’s made and all of the tests he’s passed (and all of the quizzes he’s failed). He thinks about all of the aborted masturbation attempts, which leads to him thinking about all of the mutual masturbation and sex and sore asses and scratchy throats, and that month he went vegetarian after Kurt complained about the taste of his cum. He thinks about meeting Kurt, and kissing Kurt, and dating Kurt. And he thinks about what could happen next year if all this good stuff happened this year.

                “I don’t know,” he responds. “I’m ready for summer, though.”

                “Yeah?” Kurt pokes him in the side, causing Blaine to jerk and laugh a bit.

                “Hey! Watch out. Don’t poke the man whose knee is dangerously close to your balls.”

                “You wouldn’t dare!” Kurt warns.

                “Try me,” Blaine smiles.

                Kurt pokes him again and again and again, and instead of kicking him in the balls, Blaine squirms down Kurt’s body and starts licking his dick.

                “Ew! That’s so weird,” Kurt laughs, trying to shoo Blaine off.

                “Since when has a blow job been weird?!”

                “This is not a blow job! You’re tickling my dick with your tongue.”

                “I am not! I’m warming you up!” Blaine defends.

                “Have I taught you nothing?” Kurt asks, faux exasperation hinting in his voice.

                “Oh fine,” Blaine says as he rolls his eyes, leaning down so he can suck Kurt’s dick properly—the way Kurt likes it.

                “Much better,” Kurt sighs, hand coming to Blaine’s hair. “Yeah, I’m definitely gonna miss this. No pesky roommates in our way.”

                Blaine comes off of Kurt’s dick and lifts his head a bit. His lips are puffy and rosy, his eyes wide and innocent.

                “I don’t know. I think next year might actually be fun. I’ll have a couch. We’ve never had sex on a couch!”           

                Kurt laughs and covers his eyes with his arm, pushing Blaine back down.

                “You’re right,” he says. “We’ve never had sex on a couch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this there will be only an epilogue left. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	11. Epilogue

                Charlie was gone. All day. And so were Brent and Claire. All day. All of his roommates, gone. _For the entire day_. This doesn’t happen as often as one would think. There are only a handful of times in Blaine’s senior year of college in which all three of his roommates have left the house with the promise to not return until far after the sun comes down. The few times this has happened have been due to extremely large bribes from Blaine given in exchange for them evacuating the premises. Blaine has no idea what they’re doing or where they are today, he just knows that he has the house to himself and he can finally jerk off in his bed, or the couch, or even the shower, and be as loud as he wants.

                It’s a Friday, and he’s the only one of his roommates that has no classes on Fridays. His normal schedule includes sleeping in and sleeping off a hangover, shoveling large quantities of food into his mouth, and grabbing his bookbag and heading over to the library and in order to get as much of his homework done as he can so he has the rest of the weekend to do whatever he wants. Today, though. Today he has the house to himself, and he’s going to take advantage of that.

                He wakes up at eleven in the morning, not yet wise to the fact that he’s alone for the day, and starts his day in the shower, washing off the sweat and grime and beer of the night before. He went bar hopping with Ben and didn’t get back home until well after last call. He and Ben drunkenly stumbled home, walking over two miles, because they didn’t feel like waiting for a bus to come get them. It’s unseasonably warm for October. Even at night it’s almost seventy degrees, and if that’s not a sign of global warming then Blaine doesn’t know what is.

                It’s not until he gets into the kitchen, squeaky clean and in a new pair of sweats, sans shirt, that he sees the note on the fridge and Blaine realizes he’s alone for the day.

                _Out all day. Be back after ten tonight. Empty the trash, motherfucker._

                It’s signed by all of his roommates.

                He pulls out two leftover pieces of sausage that are in the fridge and microwaves them, along with some cold pasta, before sitting at the shoddy dining room table that’s pushed up against the wall in their kitchen. As he shovels food into his mouth he ponders what he should do today—whether or not he should continue with his day as planned or take a detour of sorts. When he’s finished eating he shoves the dishes in the sink to be dealt with later and heads to his room, scratching his belly and playing with the trail of hair that disappears into his sweatpants.

                He immediately pulls down his pants—he’d forgone briefs after his shower—and grabs his laptop from his room before heading back out to the living room. He plugs his computer into the TV, puts on his favorite porno, falls onto the couch, and grabs his dick.

                “Yes,” Blaine sighs as his dick begins to show interest. He’s not sure if he’s more turned on by the two men making out and jerking each other off on screen or the prospect of being alone and finally being able to masturbate on the second hand couch his roommate Claire bought a few months ago.

                “Fuck yes,” He groans again, eyes focused on the screen.

                Daniel is kissing down Eric’s chest, spending some time on Eric’s nipple—licking and nipping at it. Blaine licks his thumb and forefinger and begins playing with his own nipple, hoping to simulate the same effect. He moans at the feeling, loud and unabashedly, and then laughs at how good that feels to be able to be as loud as he wants when he’s jerking off in the morning.

                It’s not that he never jerks off at home. On the contrary, he does it all the time. A few mornings a week, a fair number of evenings, and when his insomnia kicks in on the weekend and it’s three in the morning and _oops did I just Google gay porn? Might as well…._

                Hell, he and his boyfriend frequently have sex in the house, even when Blaine’s roommates are home. They’ve all heard Blaine and Kurt going at it, and neither Blaine nor Kurt really cares. It’s just something about masturbating alone, being _heard_ masturbating alone, that weirds Blaine out.

                He keeps thumbing at his nipple as his other hand slowly pumps his dick. He’s completely naked and sprawled out on the couch, listening to the moans coming from the television. His grip is dry, and part of him wants to run to his room and grab some lube, but right before he gets up to do so Daniel starts rimming Eric, and Blaine can’t just up and leave. This is one of his favorite parts.

                He licks his thumb again and lets it graze his asshole, imagining it’s Kurt doing that. He’s fully hard now and leaking against his belly. The pornographic moans from the television mix with the breathy sighs leaving his mouth, and Blaine is completely deaf to anything else going on.

                “Mmmhmm,” he moans, moving his hand faster and twisting it at the top. He collects some precum to help with the glide. “Yeah.” He bites the corner of his lip as his thumb hits against his perineum and groans, eyes falling closed.

                “ _What the fuck?!”_ He hears, and his eyes open fast and wide, because Blaine’s seen this porno at least three dozen times and he definitely doesn’t remember those words ever coming out of either porn star’s mouth.

                “Kurt!” He strangles out, standing up immediately and trying to cup his dick for modesty. Except it’s kind of impossible to do so because he’s rock hard and there’s no way his hands can cover the entirety of his dick and his balls.

                “What are you doing?!” Kurt squawks, cheeks red and hands covering his eyes. He’s standing next to the couch in the living room. _Blaine’s_ living room. “Oh my god,” he squeaks.

                “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Blaine says, grabbing a pillow and covering his privates. “You can look now.”

                _“Fuck yeah. Take it,”_ Blaine hears from the front of the room, loudly and clearly.

                “You forgot to turn the porn off,” Kurt chokes out, body facing Blaine but eyes closed and elbow covering his eyes.

                Blaine walks over to his laptop and slams it down, watching the TV go blank.

                “I thought you had class today?” Blaine asks with confusion, his voice breathless, but not in the good way. His heart is beating out of his chest.

                Kurt slowly removes his arm from his face and opens his eyes, blinking a bit as he gets used to the light.

                “I took off.” Kurt looks Blaine up and down. “You should uh, fix the pillow,” he says.

                When Blaine looks down he realized that his pillow slipped and the top of his dick is peeking out.

                “Really, Blaine. I thought we were through with all of this secret masturbation.”

                “It wasn’t a secret!” Blaine replies. “I was just...enjoying myself.”

                “It’s not even noon.”

                “Hey! There’s no rule that says one can’t get off before lunch time.” Blaine takes a few steps closer to Kurt, grinning from ear to ear. “Wait,” he pauses. “How the fuck did you even get in here?”

                “Stop trying to change the topic! And with the spare key,” Kurt replies, voice high from embarrassment.

                “Huh,” Blaine exhales. “What a convenient time to come barreling into my house using the extra key I gave you,” he says, voice sounding serious but oozing with sarcasm.

                “Well I at least hope you were thinking of me,” Kurt replies, smiling.

                “You? Oh god no. I was thinking of Kevin from my English class. What a hunk. Blonde hair, buzz cut. Big guy, built like a fire hydrant.” Blaine takes another step forward so there’s only a foot or two in between them.

                “Sounds sexy,” Kurt says, taking a small step closer to Blaine and trying to grab his free hand, the one _not_ protecting his modesty.

                “Oops,” Blaine says after Kurt grabs his free hand. “Dropped the pillow.” Blaine lets go of the pillow and it falls to the floor. “I should pick that up. Clumsy me.”

                He takes a step back and turns around so his ass is right in front of Kurt, and he bends down, feeling around on the floor.

                “Man, I just can’t seem to find this pillow,” he says. The pillow is actually behind him, but he still pretends to look for it. “What a pickle I seem to be in.”

                He feels Kurt slap his ass.

                “Alright, Blaine. I get it. You have a nice ass. Now stand up.”

                “Are you sure you don’t want to appreciate it a little longer?” Blaine asks, still bent over, glancing up at Kurt.

                “I will appreciate it much longer later tonight. I hear your roommates are gone.”

                “And how did you know that?” Blaine asks as he stands up and faces Kurt, his cock slowly softening but still standing at attention. He notices Kurt keeps glancing at it, and Blaine’s cocky smirk resurfaces as his eyebrows raise. “Like what you see, stud?”

                Kurt shakes his head, trying to suppress a smile.

                “Go put some clothes on. I want to check out the History Museum.”

                “Okay,” Blaine says as he walks towards his room in their one floor house. When he gets to the end of the hallway he turns around and asks, “How did you know my roommates were gone though?”

                “Charlie sent me a text.”

                “We should send him a fruit basket.”

                “Actually I was thinking something more along the lines of a Snapchat of our dicks with the heading, _Thanks for this opportunity_. Now be quick.”

                Blaine closes the door of his room and opens his underwear drawer. The first thing he sees, however, glaring at him in purple, is a bottle of lube.

                _I can’t just give up this opportunity_ , he thinks to himself as he grabs the lube and squirts a dollop into his hand.

                He reclines on his bed and starts to slowly fist himself while his other hand massages his balls. He lets out a sigh as his dick hardens, his mind drifting to Kurt. His moans get a little breathier and more strangled the closer he gets to the edge.

                “Blaine Anderson, you better not be doing what I think you’re doing!” Kurt’s banging on his door, his voice rife with warning. “It does not take that long to put on pants and a shirt!”

Instead of answering, Blaine just moans louder.

                “Fuck, Kurt,” he puts on his fakest porn star voice. “Oh yeah! Fuck me!” It’s so cheesy, and he’d laugh if he could, but he’s too busy fucking into his hand imagining it was Kurt’s mouth.

                His eyes are trained on the door when the doorknob begins to turn and Kurt steps in.

                “Fuck,” Kurt says, face going pale and eyes going wide. “I was not expecting this,” he murmurs, taking a tentative step forward.

                “Museum’s open until eight,” Blaine grunts out as he turns onto his stomach, hand still slowly running up and down the length of his cock.  He gets up onto knees and elbows, letting his cock hang down between him. “I could really use some help,” he says innocently, turning to look up at Kurt.

                Kurt gulps, taking a step forward and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. “Yes. Yes you could.”

* * *

                “That was nice,” Kurt says, sitting on the bed. His back is against the wall and his legs are spread out in front of him. Blaine’s sitting in between them, leaning against Kurt and playing with his hands, entwining their fingers and squeezing and reveling in the fact that he gets to hold this man’s hands whenever he wants.

                “Much better than the museum, I’d say.”

                “Don’t think that you’re getting out of that. We’re going later today,” Kurt says, leaning down to kiss Blaine’s naked shoulder.

                “Oooohhh well,” Blaine replies with fake defeat. “I guess I’ll just have to survive a few hours of culture with my super hot boyfriend.”

                “Sounds like it’ll be hard. You have my condolences.”

                “Thanks. I appreciate that.” Blaine squeezes Kurt’s hands, their fingers still interlaced, and leans his head against Kurt’s shoulder, dipping it back and demanding a kiss.

                Kurt leans forward and places a light kiss there, and Blaine smiles.

                “Spiderman kiss!” He whispers.

                Kurt rubs their noses together, grinning.

                “I love you, you know that?” It sounds like a question, Blaine notes. But he doesn’t know why. He knows Kurt loves him. They don’t say it often, but they show it by actions. Kurt shows it every time he kisses Blaine goodnight, every time he holds Blaine in bed. Every time Blaine needs a hug because he’s feeling down or needs a shoulder to cry on, an open ear to listen, Kurt shows his love. He shows his love when he opens doors for Blaine and when he whispers sweet nothings into his ear. He shows his love when they fuck, when they go slowly and sensually, when he talks about his future, always saying “we we we,” and “us us us.” Blaine’s never doubted Kurt’s love for him. In the many fights they’ve had, he’s never doubted Kurt’s love for him. And he doesn’t want Kurt to think he has. He wants Kurt to be just as confident in their love as he is.

                “Yeah. I do,” he whispers back. He releases one of Kurt’s hands so he can wrap his hand around the back of Kurt’s neck, head still lolled back onto his shoulder. He pulls Kurt down to him for another kiss. This one’s deeper and sensual and still pretty chaste. This kiss, like all their other kisses, is full of their love.

                When they pull apart Kurt’s beaming down at him.

                “Now’s when you say it back.”

                Blaine smiles.

                “I love you, too. And I hope you know that. But in case you don’t,” he says as he stares unblinkingly into Kurt’s eyes, grabbing Kurt’s arms and wrapping them around himself, “I plan on sticking around for a while so I can always remind you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! The end. I had such a blast writing this. I originally started this expecting it to be this fun 5k one shot, and now it's turned into this massive story--over 25k! I have no idea how it got so big.
> 
> I'd like to thank [Alianne](http://www.http://alianne.tumblr.com/) for posting this prompt on the GKM and for being an awesome support system via email.
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone who read this, commented, reviewed, liked, reblogged, favorited, kudos'd etc etc. It's been awesome seeing such great feedback from people!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all liked how the story ended.

**Author's Note:**

> Rebloggable on Tumblr


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